Canada Reads, Day 5

Posted 29 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | No comments

Steven: The climax of Canada Reads played out pretty much the way Alex and I predicted it would, with one notable exception.

In the first round of voting, Icefields was knocked off, with the votes breaking down exactly the way we suggested they would yesterday: Steve MacLean continued to vote against King Leary; Lisa Moore continued to vote against Not Wanted on the Voyage; Jemeni continued to vote against Icefields; and the alliance of Dave Bidini and Zaib Shaikh, which had been responsible for eliminating both of the previous books, cast its two votes against Icefields. This left Not Wanted on the Voyage and King Leary in contention, effectively shattering the Bidini/Shaikh coalition, unless one or the other was willing to vote against his own book, Justin Trudeau style, but it was pretty clear from the start that this wasn’t going to happen.

Before the final, deciding vote, however, there was some interesting discussion of the final two books, highlighted early on by Lisa Moore apologizing to Dave Bidini for calling him lazy during yesterday’s set-to regarding why people read and admitting that we read for what she called “anarchic pleasure.”

On the question of which of the final two books moved them more, the panelists came down overwhelmingly in favour of King Leary, with the obvious exception of Zaib Shaikh. Moore praised the structure and pace of the book, MacLean was moved by the scenes of the monks on the ice and of the boys strapping on their skates and skating “till they drop,” and Bidini told an evocative anecdote about driving a Delta 88 to a park in the wintertime, lighting a smoke, and reading Quarrington’s book, which became for him a life-changing experience: “I had wrestled with writing for a long time before I was turned on to this book, wondering, kind of, the path my life would go down as a writer, and, you know, hockey and music had never been validated … I always thought I had to fit inside that tweed box, I always thought that writing had to be serious to be great, and I was shown through this work that it doesn’t.”

Of the panelists who championed King Leary as a “moving” book, only Jemeni made a distinction between the way the book “charmed” her and the way Findley’s book moved her, not always comfortably. One of the implicit strains in the discussion seemed to be the idea that in order for a book to move someone it has to do so in a positive way; Jemeni was the only panelist to acknowledge the legitimacy of a book that disturbs its readers, and that that disturbance can be every bit as profound — if not more profound — than the book that makes its readers laugh or cry.

The other impression I was left with was of MacLean’s literal-mindedness, which Alex has already mentioned. It seems that what prevented him from falling into the world of Not Wanted on the Voyage was the singing sheep, which he couldn’t explain. But of course, Findley’s novel is not at all naturalistic, and anyone who is unwilling to accept the idea of singing sheep or talking cats or faeries or demons is not going to feel at home in the world of the book.

Perhaps this explains MacLean’s abrupt about-face during the final voting round. The retired astronaut, who had cast his previous four votes for the same book — King Leary – summarily changed his mind on vote number five, and decided to vote off Not Wanted on the Voyage. This despite the fact that at the top of the show, he decided to “stay the course” and vote against King Leary. This leads me to believe that something in the intervening fifteen minutes or so changed his mind, although it’s hard to imagine what that might have been, except perhaps for the sudden realization that he couldn’t abide the singing sheep.

Jemeni, who I expected to vote against Not Wanted on the Voyage, given her avowed affection for Quarrington’s book — her admission today that she was “charmed” by it — actually went the other way, and voted against King Leary.

So, the big surprise of the day was that the deciding vote was cast by Steve MacLean, the retired astronaut who had been absolutely consistent in his voting pattern right up until the final ballot. When all was said and done, the votes were three to two in favour of King Leary — you heard it here first, folks — although they didn’t break down in the way I anticipated they would. This is a contender for the category of the year’s biggest surprise, which you can watch for when Alex and I do our wrap-up of the 2008 Canada Reads series in the next few days.

Alex: There were a couple of twists this final day, but nothing to upset King Leary’s coronation. The big surprise, as you note Steve, was MacLean’s bizarre change of heart, especially given his commitment to “staying the course.” But Jemini’s coming down against King Leary was almost as big a shock to me.

Quick hits:

(1) I think Bidini hit on a winning strategy by insisting that King Leary was a book that changed his life. It’s kind of hard to respond to a personal endorsement like that. I mean, if you think the book is no good then what does that say about the individual whose life it changed? But in this case it worked. His recollection of the epiphany he had when reading King Leary in a Delta 88 was quite a moment.

(2) Yes, Chief Astronaut MacLean (the only physicist on the panel) is quite the literal fellow. His opposition to the singing sheep was just the final installment. And yet his chosen book is the story of a man of science whose vision of an angel inspires a spiritual quest.

(3) I couldn’t even remember Moore calling Bidini lazy yesterday. When did that happen?

(4) Did Jian try and stack the deck against Not Wanted on the Voyage in his casting of the final vote as a David vs. Goliath stand-off? It’s interesting that everyone jumped on him for it.

(5) I hadn’t thought of the record Bidini mentioned. Musicians dominate this award. Winners have included Steven Page in 2002, Jim Cuddy in 2004, and John Samson in 2006 and 2007 (the Canada Reads All-Stars year). And now Bidini in 2008. Though there have been musicians whose choices haven’t won, so the record isn’t really four-for-four.

And so, on to our final thoughts.

Canada Reads, Day 4

Posted 28 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | 1 comment

Alex: Another day where everything went as expected. At least by us. Is the domain name CanadianNostradamus.com registered?

My usual point-form breakdown:

(1) There isn’t a whole lot of dramatic tension now. MacLean, Moore, and Jemini all stuck to their guns. As Jemini put it, changing her vote would make her appear “ridiculous.” That said, it’s clear she’s going to vote against Icefields again in the next round, and I think it’s pretty clear both Shaikh and Bidini will join her. The way the dynamics are working now, Jian even suggested a Bidini-Shaikh “cabal.” I don’t think there’s any collusion, but it’s just the way things shook out that those two are the deciders.

(2) Jemini was very gracious in defeat, but the line about Canada “not being ready” for a book like Brown Girl in the Ring? Hmmmm.

(3) As for the critical discussion, it seemed like a day of non-starters. Jian threw out the observation that the two books by women (and chosen by women) have been voted off first. But Moore didn’t find that significant. Then the conversation turned to sex, which was weird since I don’t think any of these books emphasizes sex. Though Bidini’s comment that “hot sex is even hotter” when it’s cold outside might make it into the promo sampler for tomorrow’s show. Something might have come out of the “is it time for a funny book to win?” question, but Bidini (who was not having a good day) never got to develop his idea that there’s a difference between being humorous and being funny. And finally Jian asked whether maybe Icefields was “too western.” And that didn’t go anywhere either.

(4) Moore did win the best give-and-take in her disagreement with Bidini over why they read. Moore said she reads to grow, Bidini said he reads to have a good time, and Moore shot back that she enjoys growing. That was a smash.

(5) Looking forward, as noted earlier I think Icefields has to be the next off. Which leaves King Leary and Not Wanted on the Voyage in the final. In that showdown Jemini will be the deciding vote, since Bidini and Moore will vote off Not Wanted on the Voyage and MacLean and Shaikh will vote off King Leary (if they hold to form, which I think they will). So it’s her call.

Steven: Should I do the Stephen Colbert thing again, or is that just beating a dead horse? Okay, one more time for good measure: WE CALLED IT!

I admit I was a bit surprised that Brown Girl in the Ring got the axe today, since it didn’t get a single vote yesterday, but then, the two people who voted against it — Zaib Shaikh and Dave Bidini — had to change their votes since the book they both voted against yesterday was eliminated. But it makes sense: Brown Girl in the Ring was the lowbrow choice, the one that everyone agrees is the least well written, and it’s a genre novel. I’m actually a bit surprised there wasn’t more talk of it as a genre novel, since this is one thing that clearly set it apart from the four other books. There might have been some interesting discussion around the issue of whether there exists a prejudice against genre fiction among those who view it as the redheaded stepchild of more worthy literary books, but no one took up this avenue of discussion.

Jemeni was indeed gracious, although I thought her comment that Canada might not be ready to embrace a book like Brown Girl in the Ring was a bit disparaging. My sense was that Bidini at least voted against the book because he thought it was of lesser quality than the others, not because he was unable to accept the Afro-Caribbean content of the story.

As for the rest of the debate, I agree with you, Alex, about it being full of non-starters; in fact, today had to be the most boring day so far this week. It shouldn’t have been, given that the topics included sex and the wanton perversity that runs through Not Wanted on the Voyage, but the panel seemed very lethargic today, unwilling to engage with much of anything.

On the subject of sex, Bidini initially demurred when Ghomeshi reminded him of his comment on Monday about Icefields having the hottest sex scene, but he eventually came around, claiming that “hot sex is even hotter when it’s snowy and minus thirty-four and icy outside.”

Now it’s time for my confession: I had no recollection of the sex scene in Icefields whatsoever. It’s been just over one week since I read the book, but the scene between Hal and Freya had completely disappeared from my mind. (The monks skating on their circular rink are still vivid in my memory, despite the fact that I read King Leary before Icefields; this may say something about the respective books.) I went back to look at the scene in Wharton’s novel, and it’s not even really a sex scene, per se: Wharton employs the technique that Russell Smith, in his introduction to Diana: A Diary in the Second Person, refers to as “panning to the window as the movies do, then cutting to the lovers waking the next morning.” It’s typically Canadian: very polite and elliptical and soft-focus. But clearly not terribly memorable.

By contrast, the rape of Emma with the unicorn’s horn in Not Wanted on the Voyage is a scene that will undoubtedly stick with me for a very long time, and it sounded as though the panel was going to get into an interesting discussion about whether this (and other scenes in the book — the cannibalism, the murder of Lotte, etc.) were justified, but Ghomeshi cut the discussion short, presumably because of time restrictions.

The one moment today that did have me sitting up in my chair came during the discussion of humour in books, when Dave Bidini said that “CanLit has been encased in this kind of tweedy austerity for a long, long time and, you know, because of that, because we are told that the books you’re supposed to like are the books that are the most serious, books that have a humorous element are often given short shrift.” The observation may be a bit trite and self-evident, but it was the closest I came today to getting enthusiastic about what I was listening to.

So all in all, an underwhelming day. Perhaps the panelists are getting tired; Ghomeshi did tell them to get a good sleep tonight in preparation for tomorrow’s finale.

As for how it will shake out tomorrow, Jemeni will stick to her guns and vote against Icefields, Lisa Moore will stick to her guns and vote against Not Wanted on the Voyage, Steve MacLean will likely stick to his guns and vote against King Leary, and the bloc of Bidini and Shaikh will vote against Icefields. (Didn’t somebody already say that?)

In a showdown between Not Wanted on the Voyage and King Leary, look for King Leary to take it, three votes to two.

Canada Reads, Day 3

Posted 27 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | 3 comments

Alex: Hump day at the Ceeb. Here’s how I saw it:

(1) No surprise in Gallant going off first. We both predicted this before the program started. Still, there was some real emotion in Moore’s cry of dismay. I just wonder how she could have been surprised when the final vote came down to Shaikh, especially after the bad blood that blossomed between the two of them yesterday obviously carried over today. Before Shaikh’s vote Moore voted against Not Wanted on the Voyage because of its false feminist consciousness. At least that’s the main reason she gave. She also claimed she “did it for badness” (which she helpfully translated as wanting to be bad).

(2) There was some good critical discussion, or at least as good as I think you can expect given the compressed format. Interesting topics included whether it makes any difference who is the best “writer,” and the importance of cultural or social relevance. On the latter point there was the germ of a good debate between Bidini (who thinks we should look at books “out of time”), and Moore and Jemini. But even MacLean, who I thought was the weakest of the panelists the first two days, really came out strong, bringing in a short passage from Gallant for close analysis and then going after Findley for being too programmatic. Shaikh, on the other hand, slipped a bit. His line about how The English Patient grabbed him by the balls was very odd.

(3) Not a great day for the host. Jian jammed in one of those information bytes just when the discussion was warming up, and completely failed to understand what Moore was saying about judging a writer by their style. I think it was clear from what she said that she thinks Hopkinson is technically the worst writer on the list (a judgement I think is hard to dispute), but Jian thought she was saying the opposite. Then he backed out of his mistake awkwardly, mumbling something about not wanting to put Moore “on the spot.”

(4) Looking forward it still seems as though King Leary is the frontrunner. Icefields is looking very iffy for the next round, as neither Bidini or Shaikh (the two votes “in play” assuming the others stick to their guns) seem that keen on it and Jemini will probably stand firm. I did think it was interesting that Brown Girl in the Ring was the one book that didn’t receive any votes in the first round, but its support still strikes me as soft.

Steven: Well, Alex, WE CALLED IT (insert Stephen Colbert-type fanfare here).

To nobody’s real surprise, except, inexplicably, the CBC’s resident blogger Lee, who received the news with “utter disbelief,” Mavis Gallant’s collection From the Fifteenth District was the first casualty of this year’s Canada Reads tournament. Of course it was. Dave Bidini captured exactly why: “It didn’t grab me.” This should come as no surprise, really, from the man who later championed King Leary because “it’s just a damn fine story.” Of course Gallant’s book didn’t grab him: the sensibilities are totally different. What surprised me was that there weren’t more votes against From the Fifteenth District.

In fact, the first four panelists Ghomeshi called upon chose four different titles to send back: Steve MacLean voted against King Leary (sensible man), Jemeni voted against Icefields, Dave Bidini voted against From the Fifteenth District, and Lisa Moore voted against Not Wanted on the Voyage. Whether Ghomeshi knew how the votes were distributed in advance and called on the panelists in a particular order to enhance the suspense of the moment, Survivor style, is unknown, but, as you say, Zaib Shaikh’s choice wasn’t really shocking.

This does leave the panel in an odd position, as Ghomeshi pointed out, with three of the four books still in play having been dissed by at least one panelist. Jemeni has at least been consistent in her dislike of Icefields, although today she seemed to criticize it based on what she wished it was as opposed to what it is: “I started out and really enjoyed the characters and wanted to know more about, you know, the angel in the story or a romance that was starting and I felt that it didn’t go in the way and the direction I was hoping for with the speed I was hoping for.”

Moore held fast to her dislike for the archetypes in Findley’s book, but here again it seems like more of a clash of sensibilities than anything else. And she stated that she might have been more forgiving towards the text had it been written by someone less skillful.

Meanwhile, looking back at the discussion on Day 1, it doesn’t seem to me that MacLean was anywhere near as effusive about King Leary as Ghomeshi makes him out to be in today’s broadcast.

After the panel finished justifying their various choices for which book should be voted off, Ghomeshi turned the discussion to the social relevance of the various books, asking if this should be a factor in the ultimate decision. Here, I agree with your point from yesterday, Alex, that the discourse became very shallow, particularly in the panel’s insistence that Icefields be read as a comment on environmentalism. Lisa Moore quoted a passage from late in the novel that she said gave her shivers: “Not much is lost every year, a few feet at most, but the rate could increase given the trend to warmer weather during the past few seasons. In time — centuries from now, but then again perhaps in Trask’s own lifetime — there may be nothing left for visitors to see.” It is easy to read this in 2008 through the prism of Al Gore’s inconvenient truth, and perhaps the fact that Wharton wrote those words in a novel published in 1995 just goes to show that artists do often have the gift of foresight, and the ability to face up to things that the rest of us are wilfully blind to. However, to make that the basis of a reading of the novel seems a bit off to me.

I am sympathetic to Moore’s comment that novels change with each reader and over time: “That’s what’s magical about literature — there’s no containing it, there’s no holding it, there’s no defining it and this book is changing before our very eyes, just like the icefields.” Bidini’s rejoinder, that the person who reads Huck Finn on the week it comes out has the same reaction to it as the person who reads Huck Finn tomorrow, is an early candidate for the most ludicrous statement by a panelist this year.

This was closely followed by Ghomeshi’s bizarre misunderstanding of Moore’s assessment of what makes a good book. Moore says: “Thomas Wharton has the most beautiful images and the structure is unpredictable in some ways, but Brown Girl in the Ring, I find the sentences aren’t interesting, the pacing is rushed, I think craft-wise it’s not there for me but, did it make me think things I’ve not thought before? Yes. And so, I want both those things from writing. I want to be forced to think of things I’ve never thought or felt before and I want to be knocked back by the beauty of the language.” Ghomeshi’s response? “So, according to Lisa Moore, the best writing is Nalo Hopkinson?”

Yes, it was one of those days.

Moving forward, King Leary does look strong, but I’m also cognizant of the fact that no one voted against Brown Girl in the Ring in the first elimination round … so maybe …

The Reviewer’s Dilemma

Posted 27 February, 2008 in Book Reviewing | 2 comments

In the process of writing about his conflicted feelings over giving the new Peter Carey novel, His Illegal Self, a negative review, Mark Sarvas of The Elegant Variation muses aloud upon the fears and uncertainties inherent in the process of reviewing someone else’s work:

I remember when I got my first New York Times Book Review assignment. Folks, I don’t mind telling you it scared me. Because, although I knew that a good review wouldn’t necessarily help the book, a bad one would surely hurt it. And I remember thinking, “Who am I to have such power over someone else’s work?” We tend to talk about how “The New York Times hated so-and-so,” but it’s not the institution, it’s an individual who has been given the Times’s imprimatur for the day. And so I read all eight or nine of James Wilcox’s previous books for an 800-word review because I realized it was something to take very seriously, indeed. (And I was relieved when my second assignment was a first novel.) And now, whenever I read a review — any review — I am acutely aware of the individual sitting with highlighter and post-its at the other end, not the 48-point type name on the masthead.

Book reviewers are paid very little for what is, let’s face it, time consuming and (not to sound too self-aggrandizing) fairly intellectually challenging work. The temptation is to breeze through whatever book is under review and toss off 300-400 words about it, then collect the meagre paycheque. But this approach elides the fact that, although it’s theoretically possible to read a novel and write a short review of it in a day or two, the author of the book under review likely spent years agonizing over it, writing and revising and polishing, worrying that it isn’t good enough, patiently crafting the words on the page.

Any good book reviewer will tell you that it gives no pleasure to dispense negative criticism in a review, but providing an honest assessment of a work is an essential part of respecting the artistic integrity of the work itself, and of its creator. However, reviewers should always bear in mind that it is much easier to read a book and come up with 400 pithy words about it than it is to write the damn thing in the first place.

Canada Reads, Day 2

Posted 26 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | 2 comments

Steven: After what Alex described as yesterday’s “love-fest” among the Canada Reads panel, the gloves came off today, with a number of panelists engaging in some fairly fierce back-and-forth about the titles on display. In particular, Lisa Moore and Zaib Shaikh got into it over Shaikh’s choice, Timothy Findley’s Not Wanted on the Voyage.

Things started out relatively calmly, with Moore employing the velvet hammer critical technique of praising the book and its author, before summarily cutting the knees out from under both. In her opening remarks she said the book displays “the author as divine creator,” and praised its descriptive powers: “I knew absolutely what it would feel like to be a cat in heat.” (This we might categorize as the “too much information” school of criticism.) And then … she attacked. Taking Shaikh to task for calling the book a feminist novel, she said that she found the feminism in the book “simplistic”: “The guys are bad, they’re thugs or they’re patriarchs; the girls are good. It feels a little bit simplistic in that way.”

Pressed by Jian Ghomeshi to expand on her feelings about the book, Moore, who is quickly becoming my favourite of the five panelists, suggested that the characters in the book are too unidimensional to be believable. “For a character to be believable there have to be inconsistencies.” Noah, for Moore, was the antithesis of this, presented always as the bad guy, while Mrs. Noyes is “the total wife.” When Shaikh protested that she leads the revolt at the book’s end, Moore responded that “to me, that is a very simplistic notion of feminism.” Shaikh: “But I think that’s the point.” Moore: “But it’s too easy a point.”

Score: Moore 3, Shaikh, nil.

Shaikh then followed up with some odd comments about Nalo Hopkinson’s Brown Girl in the Ring. He responded favourably to the book himself, but suggested that it might be too “culturally specific” to recommend for all of Canada to read. Following on his comment yesterday about being offended by “The Moslem Wife,” Shaikh, the self-described “brown boy in the ring,” is rapidly becoming the one member of the panel to consistently engage in identity politics when discussing these titles. What was most bothersome for me — a white boy — was Shaikh’s apparent feeling that Hopkinson’s book would have nothing to say to someone from my demographic. “Ultimately,” said Shaikh, “you have to think about all these books as a book you want the nation to read, and I as a reader wanted to read it, but when I think, Does this apply to all of Canada? I’m not convinced.”

Bidini took aim at the book as a work of literature, saying that it “angled too much toward the comic book side,” and although it was a fun read, it wasn’t as substantial as some of the other books on the list, and the fact that it is culturally significant isn’t in itself enough to recommend it.

And then Ghomeshi gave the floor to Lisa Moore: “You know, all of the universal is in the particular. I’m shocked by this argument that there’s a problem with it being culturally specific. That’s what I loved about it, and I found that that specificity was what was great about it — the language, the patois, the way the dialogue worked — and that that was placed on top of a Toronto that I’ve kinda walked around in, except not, because it’s sci-fi. I thought, wow, this is really weird, this is a weird book, and that’s what I want to read. I want to read stuff that I couldn’t have imagined myself.”

Score: Moore 4, Shaikh & Bidini nil.

A few final notes:

I did a bit of a double-take when Ghomeshi asked the each of the panelists to choose a character that will stick with them from a book other than their own, and Dave Bidini chose the title character from “His Mother” by Mavis Gallant. Despite the “precious” and “impenetrable” prose, it appears at least one story from the collection got under his skin.

Ghomeshi closed the show by asking the panel about “Canadianness” in the books, and whether this will influence the final choice. This, I admit, is one of the questions I was roundly hoping we could avoid this year, and I’ll have a good deal more to say about it when Alex and I do our wrap-up at the end of the week. For now, suffice it to say: bollocks.

When asked to choose her favourite character, Jemeni picked King Leary, and read a passage from the book. Her voice is absolutely mellifluous, and my only thought at that point was that if I could have listened to her reading the novel rather than having to read it myself, I would have liked it a hell of a lot more.

Alex: An odd day, I thought. Impressions:

(1) I agree that Moore came out strong today. Let’s face it, after yesterday’s bloodletting in the fifteenth district she had to. She was very good, but I thought Shaikh still came out as the most articulate. He did a good job introducing Not Wanted on the Voyage. In the follow-up debates, however, he is taking some hits. The arguing over feminism was just a place he didn’t need to go (and in fairness, he wasn’t the one who put it on the table today).

(2) Is MacLean really as literal-minded as he’s letting on? He apparently has trouble with talking cats and zombies in novels.

(3) I’m surprised that even though it came in for some criticism, nobody took on the violence in Brown Girl in the Ring. Am I the only one who found it over the top? Bidini even gave a great opening when he said he wished the characters had more blood in them. I did think Bidini’s critique was on target though: It does read like a comic book, and the multi-culti angle isn’t enough to make it worth selection. I don’t think he was (initially) attacking it for its cultural specificity, and it’s too bad the conversation got dragged in that direction later.

(4) The discussion is getting pretty shallow. The identity politics, which seems to be all over the place now, is only the most obvious manifestation (and admittedly the worst of it). But what about Moore complaining of the unbelievable characters in Not Wanted on the Voyage? Come on. It’s a fable. Findley’s playing with archetypes. I think they’re quite nicely realized and brought to life, but the point is you can’t compare characterization in Gallant with what Findley is doing, or for that matter what Quarrington does.

(5) I did a double-take of my own when Bidini chose the title character from Gallant’s “His Mother” as the character most likely to stick with him. OK, here’s my confession: I finished reading Gallant’s book two weeks ago. I pulled a complete blank on “His Mother.” I thought I remembered the story but when I went back to check I found I’d confused it with another. At this rate I won’t be able to remember if I ever read the book at all in another couple of months. I’m wondering if this is something I should see a doctor about. I’ve heard doing Sudoku helps.

(6) Three different characters from King Leary were picked as the most memorable. This book is still looking strong. I think we’d have to call it the front-runner going into the actual voting rounds. I think the “Canadianness” issue was a fair one to bring up. But perhaps typical of this day’s discussion, where things kept going off in wrong directions. People seemed to keep misinterpreting each other. Perhaps wilfully, for strategic reasons. I had a sense there was a lot of strategy going on today.

One other interesting bit of Canada Reads news today worth mentioning was the story in the Globe and Mail that talked a bit about the sales effect. I think Jian was adverting to it when he mentioned how the program brought King Leary back from the dead.

Canada Reads, Day 1

Posted 25 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | 1 comment

Steven: The opening salvos in CBC Radio One’s battle of the books have been fired, as the 2008 version of Canada Reads kicked off today. The panelists proved to be a lively lot, and they don’t seem shy about crossing swords, which should provide for some entertaining repartée as the week progresses.

The broadcast opened with each panelist providing reasons for why they chose the particular book they did. Lisa Moore said that the stories in From the Fifteenth District were “as rich, as complex, and as emotionally engaging as any single novel,” and called every story in the book “a masterpiece.” Zaib Shaikh praised Not Wanted on the Voyage as representative of an author’s imagination and a reckoning with the idea of spirituality — “what it means to be human and what it means to be divine.” Dave Bidini said that King Leary “made me the writer I am today … It’s as funny as it is emotional as it is sad.” Jemeni singled out the polarities in Brown Girl in the Ring — “It’s so beautiful and yet violent” — and said that the Caribbean-Canadian characters are people that she could recognize as part of her Canada. Only retired astronaut Steve MacLean, asked to talk about Icefields, disappointed, giving more of a plot summary than an argument for why he chose the book.

Icefields was the first title to be debated by the entire panel. Jemeni confessed to being disinterested by the book and Shaikh felt no strong reaction one way or the other. He did suggest that it rips off The English Patient in its style (for which, a case could be made). Lisa Moore “kind of loved” the book, which she called “Cormac McCarthyesque,” but she felt that it “stuck to the tropes of the historical novel” and she didn’t care for the archetypal “strong, fiery” female character in it.

Moving on to Mavis Gallant, who became an early contender to be first voted off, Bidini confessed to being unmoved by From the Fifteenth District, which he found “precious and fine” and “impenetrable,” and which he likened to “tapping on glass” or visiting a museum exhibit. Shaikh said that he felt as though he’d read all the stories before, which elicited the day’s best retort, from Moore: “They were all ripping off her.” Jemeni found too many of the stories too absorbed in the “minutiae of the everyday,” but MacLean “became a convert,” saying that the writing is so concentrated that “if you miss one word, you will miss what [Gallant’s] saying.”

Defending Gallant’s work, Moore commented that From the Fifteenth District is not a book that comes with a laugh track, which prompted Bidini to make the most indefensible comment of the show, saying that there’s no humour in it at all.

Turning their attention to King Leary, MacLean became very specific, singling out the scene of the monks playing hockey “in chapter twenty-eight.” That section “really resonated with me,” but he felt that the dramatic sections didn’t work as well, and the presentation of King Clancy as a nasty, arrogant, unsympathetic man was troublesome. Moore, who hates hockey, confessed to loving the voice in the book, calling it “beautiful, lovely, generous.” Shaikh said that King Leary was his favourite read after Not Wanted on the Voyage, but wondered whether the hockey subject would appeal to new Canadians. For her part, Jemeni “absolutely fell in love with it.”

So, some good reviews for Quarrington, mixed for Wharton, and it’s not looking good for Gallant. Tune in tomorrow to find out which book is the first to be voted off, and which four will prevail to fight another day.

Alex:

Day One:

Day one sounded like a bit of a love-fest. I think every panelist is on record for having loved at least a couple of the books. Lisa Moore even “kind of loved” Icefields. There was just a whole lot of love to go around. But also some knives being sharpened . . .

Here are my observations:

(1) As we both predicted, Gallant is in trouble right off the bat. Bidini thought she was impenetrable, her writing “too beautiful,” and likened reading her to a museum visit. Shaikh agreed, comparing her to Nicole Kidman (nice to look at, but not someone he’d like to date). Jemini took the same tack (even reusing the Kidman reference). MacLean seemed a bit put out that he couldn’t read her in bed. I don’t see how this book makes it out of the first couple of rounds.

(2) King Leary is looking strong. Everyone loves it but MacLean, and his objection to it — that it constitutes a smear of King Clancy! — is WEAK.

(3) I’m thinking Not Wanted on the Voyage is going to be the other tough contender. Shaikh came across as by far the strongest panelist. He’s got his shit together, bringing “patriarchy” and environmental issues to the table in his opening comments. He didn’t even have to play the fundamentalism card.

(4) I think Icefields might be in trouble too. Jemini and Moore seemed lukewarm to it at best. Shaikh compared it to The English Patient. That guy is GOOD.

Steven: I agree with you, Alex, about Shaikh’s strengths as a panelist, but I do confess to feeling a bit put off by his comment that he was “offended” by the Gallant story “The Moslem Wife.” It struck me as a kind of overly PC reaction that failed to take into account the story’s historical or cultural context. However, I dug the comparison of Icefields to The English Patient, although I think we both agree that the former is much more enjoyable than the latter.

The Academy Gets It Right (For a Change)

Posted 25 February, 2008 in Film | 3 comments

2007 was a good year for literary adaptations at the Oscars, Hollywood’s annual narcissistic stroke-fest, with Joel & Ethan Coen’s terrific film of Cormac McCarthy’s novel No Country for Old Men, Paul Thomas Anderson’s There Will Be Blood, based on Upton Sinclair’s unfortunately titled Oil! (note to writers: exclamation points in titles are never a good idea — I’m looking at you, Dave Eggers), and Joe Wright’s adaptation of Ian McEwan’s sombre World War II novel Atonement all being nominated for best picture. In addition, Canadian Sarah Polley was nominated in the best adapted screenplay category for Away from Her, an adaptation of Alice Munro’s story “The Bear Came Over the Mountain.”

In the end, the Coens’ film came home the big winner, taking four major awards: best picture, best director(s), best adapted screenplay, and best supporting actor (Javier Bardem). I’ll admit that I didn’t think the Academy would go for No Country, it being too subversive and nihilistic for their usual sensibilities. My money was on the historical epic Atonement, which, despite its Masterpiece Theatre feel and its interminable middle third, is the kind of romantic costume drama that Oscar usually rewards.

It may be indicative of the dark mood that has befallen not just the Hollywood establishment, but the entire United States of America that resulted in No Country’s Oscar win. Regardless, it’s nice to see the best picture in the Oscar slate get awarded with the title for a change. Looking back at the myriad goofs that Oscar has made in this category in years past (awarding Ordinary People over Raging Bull, Forrest Gump over Pulp Fiction, ignoring Citizen Kane, The Third Man, and Psycho), the 80th Annual Academy Awards will at least be remembered as one of the years the Academy got it right.

Reading Canada Reads, Part 2

Posted 23 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | No comments

PREVIEW

Steven: The 2008 Canada Reads list is remarkably strong, and displays a wide range of subjects and styles, from a fantastical retelling of the Biblical story of Noah and the flood to a series of naturalistic stories set in Europe before, during, and after the Second World War, to a dystopian vision of Toronto in the near future. There’s an historical novel set in Jasper at the turn of the 20^th century, and a hockey novel. The five selections collectively put the boots to the notion of the “traditional Canadian novel (or short story),” exploding it outward to encompass a variety of different forms, styles, and approaches.

The books under consideration this year, in alphabetical order by author, are:

• Not Wanted on the Voyage, by Timothy Findley. Defended by Zaib Shaikh, from CBC ’s Little Mosque on the Prairie.
• From the Fifteenth District, by Mavis Gallant. Defended by Lisa Moore, author of the Giller-shortlisted novel Alligator.
• Brown Girl in the Ring, by Nalo Hopkinson. Defended by Jemeni, hip-hop poet and culture commentator.
• King Leary, by Paul Quarrington. Defended by Dave Bidini, author and Canadian rock god.
• Icefields, by Thomas Wharton. Defended by Steve MacLean, retired Canadian astronaut.

 

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Not Wanted on the Voyage, by Timothy Findley

Steven: Unlike most Canadians with a university degree in English, I managed to escape reading this book in school, which created kind of a hole in my literary background, but not so much that I felt I needed to go back and plug it. Which is a shame, because Findley’s novel is really strong, and not at all what I expected.

Far from being a straight retelling of the Biblical flood story, Not Wanted on the Voyage is a delirious phantasmagoria featuring talking cats and lemurs, an ill-fated unicorn, singing sheep, and even the presence of Yaweh himself.

It’s probably the presentation of Yaweh in the book that gets religious groups most riled. Findley anthropomorphizes the deity and shows him doing all sorts of typically human things: eating, sleeping, getting depressed. He’s also not terribly nice, given as he is to petulant fits of solipsistic self-regard. But then, neither is the tyrannical patriarch Noah presented in anything resembling a sympathetic light. Yaweh’s handpicked survivor is vicious and condescending towards his wife and his daughter-in-law’s sister, whose death is one of the most brutal scenes in the novel.

In other words, this is a very dark book. It’s violent and frightening, but it’s also infused with scenes of startling vividness and a kind of linguistic play that is rare in Canadian fiction these days. Its fantastical mode belies its serious intent and, in a world increasingly rent by the intolerances and hatreds of fundamentalist religion, its central message is one that needs to be heard.

Alex: I didn’t escape reading this book in school. It caught me in a first-year introduction to literature course back in 1986. I even went to hear Findley that year when he appeared on campus — reading from The Butterfly Plague — and got him to sign my paperback. Which I seem to have lost.

I found I liked it better this time around. I’ve never thought Findley a strong enough stylist to be in the front rank of Canadian authors, especially considering his dreary later efforts. But re-reading Not Wanted on the Voyage reminded me of what a powerful dramatic imagination he had. There are books I’ve read in the last couple of months that I’ve already completely forgotten, but scenes from this one have stayed with me for over twenty years. It has such a lush visual texture to it. Just think of the wonderful costumes. And the animal stuff is very well handled too.

It’s an interesting coincidence that one of the other authors on this program, Paul Quarrington, wrote the introduction to the new Penguin Modern Classics edition. And he makes a reference to Findley characterizing the book as an anti-fascist statement. I agree with you Steve that today it’s more likely to be read as anti-fundamentalist. Which I suppose can be just as limiting, but also makes it seem all the more relevant.

From the Fifteenth District, by Mavis Gallant

Alex: As part of a discussion in Shut Up He Explained of the best Canadian short story collections, John Metcalf has this to say about Mavis Gallant and Alice Munro: “There is little doubt that they are the commanding writers in Canadian short fiction — and therefore in Canadian literature; the debate amongst writers concerns which is better than the other. Alice Munro’s career has been more visible but many readers and writers think that Mavis Gallant’s rather cold eye and stringent intellect will age better.”

I think that “rather cold eye and stringent intellect” are dead on. And they help explain why I don’t find Gallant a very congenial author. In the Munro/Gallant debate I side with Munro. I respect Gallant, but that cold eye, the way she seems to despise so many of her characters, puncturing their selfishness and snobbery in disdainful, ironic prose (a bit of the New Yorker house style?), gets to me. Especially when the stories themselves aren’t exactly page-turners. And, as with so many literary authors, the dialogue can be downright dreadful.

Maybe I’m casting a bit of a cold eye here myself. This is a good book. But I have to say that while Gallant may be the most commanding writer in all of Canadian literature, she’s not a personal favourite.

Steven: It’s interesting to me that Metcalf equates Canadian short fiction with Canadian literature. I’ve always felt that Canadian culture excels in two specific areas: comedy and short fiction. And in the latter category, the heavyweights are undoubtedly Munro and Gallant.

It’s always struck me as unfortunate that when a conversation turns to Canadian short fiction, the default setting is to assume the subject is Alice Munro. To me, this gives Gallant short shrift (which is not to say that there’s anything wrong with Munro; to the contrary, there’s a hell of a lot that’s right with her). I agree that Gallant can come across as colder and more intellectual, but she also has an extraordinarily subtle aestheticism (which may be part of what attracts Lisa Moore to her writing) and an acerbic sense of humour. Her characterization of Wilkinson, for example, in “The Remission” (my favourite story from the collection): “If he sounded like a foreigner’s Englishman, like a man in a British joke, it was probably because he had said so many British-sounding lines in films set on the Riviera.”

No, the stories aren’t page turners, but they are carefully wrought, with a distinctly ironic bent, and all richly reward rereadings. I’m loath to choose sides in the Munro/Gallant debate, but every time I read Gallant, I’m reminded of what an extraordinarily gifted writer she is. From the Fifteenth District isn’t an easy book to like, but the stories are brilliantly conceived and executed, and on a technical level it’s the best of the five books on this list.

Brown Girl in the Ring, by Nalo Hopkinson

Steven: The first time I read Brown Girl in the Ring, back in 1998, it surprised me, because I don’t read a lot of speculative fiction and most of what I do read I don’t enjoy. But Hopkinson’s dystopian vision of a near-future Toronto in which the rich have fled to the suburbs and barricaded the poor, the sick, and the deranged in the burnt-out downtown core, where they occasionally serve as unwitting organ donors for ailing members of the suburban well-to-do, seemed eerily prescient during the heyday of the Mike Harris Conservatives.

Rereading the book in 2008, it still holds up, in part precisely because the legacy of the 1990s in Toronto — amalgamation and the disastrous downloading of social services in the name of Harris’s so-called “Common Sense Revolution” — has had the effect of widening the gap between the rich and the poor in the city, and has helped to create a new underclass of working poor.

In part, though, Hopkinson’s novel feels so fresh because it manages to successfully marry tropes from traditional speculative and horror fiction genres with elements of Caribbean mythology. Soucouyants and the mythical Jab-Jab haunt these pages, as does the evil magic of obeah, and its positive healing counterpart as practised by Mami Gros-Jeanne, the grandmother of Ti-Jeanne, the book’s protagonist.

By layering traditional Caribbean folklore onto a not-entirely implausible dystopian tale of urban decay and social unrest, Hopkinson has created something entirely new: a vibrant, fast-paced, engaging hybrid novel that vigorously defies characterization. It’s not as self-consciously literary as some of the other books on this list, but it may well be the most enjoyable.

Alex: Wow. We really parted ways on this one.

My first impression: It certainly had its work cut out to overcome both a truly terrible title (I’m still not sure what it means) and a cover design that simply screams YA. As far as the premise goes, I was looking forward to an updated, Canadianized, Escape From New York. And I guess I got it. Unfortunately, even for a work of speculative fiction it didn’t seem as plausible as Carpenter’s “Manhattan-as-prison-colony” idea. Obviously imagining Toronto’s downtown as an ethnic ghetto is a metaphor for white flight, but what triggered it? A dispute over native land claims? And really, if you were Toronto’s top dog and could have any office space you wanted in the city, would you take up residence in the CN tower’s observation deck?

Some of these are little things, and maybe they’re only rookie mistakes. What I found most hard to take about this book was all of the violence, which manages to be both horrific and cartoonish. I don’t want to sound like a prude, but an author had better have a damn good reason for making me read a description of a drugged woman being skinned alive, or an old lady being hammered to death. Here it just seems gratuitous. And the dialect drove me crazy. I never got into the rhythm of it, and was still grinding my teeth over lines like “I ain’t know what I go do” right to the end.

I did like the voodoo angle, especially the skeleton guy with the top hat. It was fun watching him kick ass. And I’m sure some people, I think young people mostly, would enjoy this book. But there’s no denying this is low-concept stuff, and the writing isn’t that good, again in an amateurish, obvious kind of way. When a door shuts behind someone “with a hollow thud, like a coffin lid slamming down” do you think they’re in trouble? Damn right they are. Ugh.

King Leary, by Paul Quarrington

Alex: Paul Quarrington caught a break with the timing of this program. King Leary is discussed on national radio as the same time as his latest, The Ravine, is hitting the stores. Or is it really just a coincidence . . . ?

It is certainly a very funny book. Peppy (and almost toothless) octogenarian Percival “King” Leary is one of the most original and alive comic characters in Canadian fiction. His voice drives the narrative like an Old School hardstep, knocking CanLit conventions flying into the boards as it powers forward. (Sorry, I won’t do that any more.) Like all great comic writers, Quarrington knows that timing is everything when it comes to jokes, and the hellzapoppin pace here rarely misses a beat. He also has the best dialogue on the list. Indeed he is the only author on this year’s program who even attempts to sustain a scene of any length with dialogue. And he does it with speech that is natural, individualized, and rhythmic. Being a musician and a screenwriter probably helps.

Alongside Leary are a cast of unforgettable supporting characters, like the newspaperman Blue Hermann, the gormless Clifford, and most notably the four monks of the Bowmanville Reformatory, whose supernatural hockey skills appear to be divinely inspired. I’m not sure there’s anything profound to any of it, but Percival is a complex figure, even perhaps a little grotesque after a lifetime of self-mythologizing and denial that we come to understand the full extent of before he does (if he ever does). The naive narrator is a difficult trick, but fascinating when, as here, it’s done right.

In brief: I really liked this book. And I’m not even a hockey fan!

Steven: Okay, I admit that “virtually unreadable” is a bit strong, but King Leary is definitely the book I enjoyed least out of the five.

I agree that it has a couple of cute one-liners (e.g. “Clay Clinton said, with uncommon understatement, ‘Shit.’”), but these rarely rise above the level of sitcom-style humour. And as for the dialogue, I found it to be frequently stilted, wooden, and clichéd:

“I’m game,” croaks old Blue. “I’ll go on a pub crawl.”

“Hey,” says Duane Killebrew, “tomorrow’s my day off. I got all night.”

“Weary as I am,” says Claire, “I must look after my charges.”

“This is excellent!” Iain screams. “Mobilization!”

“I am agèd and infirm!” says I. “I shouldn’t be kept out past eight-thirty or nine. Here it is almost eleven.”

“Oh, King mine,” says Iain, “what good is your health if you don’t live?” Iain presses his lips to my wrinkled brow.

“You are drunk.”

At the very least, an octogenarian hockey player would have used the contraction “you’re” instead of the more formal “you are.” And let’s not even get into that accent on “agèd.” (I realize he fancies himself the King, but come on!) Elmore Leonard this ain’t.

As for the “hellzapoppin pace,” I found that sections of this novel positively dragged, and a number of the jokes were just too clever by half. Yes, there is the gormless Clifford, who Leary always describes as “the gormless Clifford.” This didn’t strike me as substantial enough to warrant a running gag, and began to stick in my craw after not too long. And the entire narration smacks of a kind of down-home folksiness that feels like nothing so much as a warmed-over Southern Ontarian carbon copy of Stephen King.

As for it being a great Canadian hockey novel, in my opinion it doesn’t hold a candle to either The Good Body by Bill Gaston, or Salvage King, Ya! by Mark Anthony Jarman, both of which are more engaging, more complex, and, not incidentally, funnier.

Icefields, by Thomas Wharton

Steven: Of all the books on this list, Icefields was the one that crept up on me. It’s a piece of historical fiction set in the rugged Canadian north, which lands it squarely in the arena of books I generally run screaming from. The tale of a British doctor, Edward Byrne, who falls down a crevasse in a glacier on an expedition in 1898 and experiences a vision that will haunt him for the next twenty-five years, the novel sounded like one gigantic snore and I admit that I approached it with a great deal of trepidation.

Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that it is in fact a compelling story about geography, spirituality, and the relationship of the land to its inhabitants.

A large part of the book’s appeal resides in Wharton’s descriptive powers, which are rich and lush, verging on the poetic:

A wide crater-like depression on the glacier slowly fills with water. By early evening it has become a lake, perfectly transparent, filled with the purest water on earth. There are no fish in its depths, no sedges or grasses along the shore. No geese, no shore birds gather here at dusk.

Each night, as the meltwater lessens, the lake subsides. In the morning it has vanished again.

As the glacier flows forward, its topography will inevitably change, and the lake will vanish. For that reason, its ephemerality, I see no reason to give this body of water a name. It will remain the ideal lake.

Wharton effortlessly conveys the grandeur of the icefields north of Jasper, Alberta, and their simultaneous beauty and danger. This is a novel that engages with its geography in a way that is never boring; it is easy to get lost in the beauty and suppleness of Wharton’s prose. It is also utterly appropriate to be reading this novel during one of the most punishing Toronto Februarys in recent memory, since Icefields is a bracingly cold novel, one of the coldest I’ve ever read.

Early on in the novel, as if to underscore the frigid, desolate nature of its story, Wharton has Byrne quote the opening line from “The Eve of St. Agnes”: “St. Agnes’ Eve - Ah, bitter chill it was!” Recalling the frosty opening of Keats’s poem, Byrne thinks, “That damn poetry.”

Indeed.

Alex: I know what you mean about the arena of books one generally runs screaming from. Let’s face it, this is the CanLit title on the list. I had a deep foreboding as soon as I saw the epigraph from Michael Ondaatje. The worst thing to ever happen to Canadian literature, in terms of his pernicious influence? The argument can certainly be made. And there’s no denying this is a book that was written very much under that influence.

And yet . . .

It’s very good. I think what makes the difference is his writing about a place he grew up in. You have the sense that this is a real place, not just in terms of the natural setting and geography but the history as well. The people and their stories are all a part of it. And so it’s not generic CanLit but a book with its own identity. Even the other texts he brings into the fold take on a special meaning reflective of the unique spiritual geography Wharton has created, and aren’t just for show.

The language walks a very fine line. The spare, evocative, descriptive stuff could easily cross over into the land of vague, but it very rarely does. And in the end it won me over as well. Though when you put it up against King Leary . . .

 

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Alex: Now that we’ve quickly gone through the list, it’s time to make our own picks. Who do we think is going to win? Who do we think should win?

My guess as to how it will shake out goes like this: I think the first books to go will be the high and lowbrow choices. That means the Gallant and the Hopkinson. This is, after all, a popularity contest, and I think those two books appeal to the narrowest readerships.

After that I see it as wide open. Findley is an icon. Wharton may have the most classically “Canadian” book on the list (no offence, this time). But King Leary is also filled with Canadian touchstones, like Vimy Ridge and of course the history of our national game. And it’s funny.

Even though there’s been said to be a bias against comic novels on this program in the past (something that blew up when Cocksure was voted off) I’ll go out on a limb and say King Leary is going to buck the trend and win. Is it the best book on the list? Well, I thought it was at least the liveliest. In any event, I think it’s the book most people would enjoy the most. And maybe make them want to keep reading.

So King Leary will win, and somewhere under a silver moon the monks will smile on their circular skating rink, while Steven W. Beattie howls in agony.

Steven: I do think that Gallant will be the first to go. Hers is the least approachable book, and I can’t see, for example, a fan of King Leary or Brown Girl in the Ring digging it. Hopkinson will probably go next, because it’s (clearly) not to everyone’s taste, and it is at its core a genre novel.

What do I think will prevail? I’d lay even money on Icefields, simply because there’s precedent for choosing the regional or “traditional” Canadian novel (Rockbound, A Complicated Kindness). And you’re right, Alex, comic novels don’t tend to come off well. In addition to Cocksure, Barney’s Version was voted out in the early stages. Of course, this may just indicate a bias against Mordecai Richler, who’s to say?

As for my personal choice, I think it’s a toss-up. If the criterion is technical mastery, then without question the brass ring should be bestowed upon From the Fifteenth District. However, if the criterion is which book did I most enjoy, I’d have to say, sorry, Alex: Brown Girl in the Ring.

Good Reports/TSR Canada Reads Coverage, Part 1

Posted 22 February, 2008 in Canada Reads | 4 comments

That’s right, you lucky folks, TSR has entered into collaboration with Alex Good of Good Reports, who has come out of hibernation to participate in some online book chat surrounding the 2008 edition of CBC Radio’s Canada Reads program. The discussion will be “simulcast” here and on Good Reports.net, and this site’s comments will remain open for anyone who feels like contributing.

Avast!

INTRODUCTION

Alex: Canada Reads is a week-long program that runs on CBC Radio One. Five guest panelists argue for a book they’ve selected to be made the one book that Canada should read together. It launched in 2002, part of a tidal wave of imitators of Chicago’s über-successful “One City, One Book” program in 2001. As far as I know this was a fad that didn’t last more than a year even in Chicago. Though they kept the program going, and communities everywhere had similar contests, hardly anyone paid any attention. The weird thing is that Canada Reads has managed to not only keep going, but to grow as an institution. The program attracts a lot of buzz and, the Grail for all such endeavours, sells a bunch of books. I don’t know the exact figures on the “bounce” (blog postings on the CBC website only talk about BookNet Canada’s relative rankings of the five Canada Reads titles without providing any numbers), but I wouldn’t be surprised if they are moving as many books as the Giller or the GG’s — though anecdotal evidence I’ve tracked down is ambiguous.

It’s a pity if they’re not. Especially coming off of 2007, where the Giller (OK, Scotiabank Giller) was such a huge disappointment. In any event, a quality gap should come as no surprise. There are several obvious reasons why the Canada Reads selections are better, the main one being that the panelists aren’t limited to choosing among books published in the past year. They also don’t arrive at a shortlist by committee, which I think encourages less predictable selections. And the judges aren’t the usual tribal suspects. There was a bit of controversy this past year over comments made about opening up the Man Booker jury to more outsiders, and whether literary prizes like the Orange Prize should have celebrities as judges. Well, Canada Reads puts such ideas to the test. On this year’s jury we have a couple of authors (Lisa Moore and Dave Bidini), a hip-hop poet (maybe she’s an author too, I don’t know), a retired spaceman (nothing against astronauts, but how did this guy’s name get put in the hat?), and one of the stars from Little Mosque on the Prairie (a bit of cross-promotion there from the Ceeb, not that there’s anything wrong with that). And marketing the series is also helped by the way the Survivor-style structure encourages the public to read all of the books as they follow along. My understanding is that being named to the Giller shortlist (never mind the long list) provides very little bounce now at all. You have to win to get people to buy the book. But if you want to listen to this program and really feel engaged with the discussion you have to read all five.

I’ll admit that when this series first started I didn’t think much of the idea. But it seems to have really worked. And, after running my own Runaway Jury for the last several years, I like the idea of presenting what amounts to transparent jury deliberations, talking about books in a public and accessible way. Whether you agree or disagree with what gets said (previous examples: Is poetry just too boring to read a whole book of? Are some authors not Canadian enough?), I think it’s great to hear discussions like this taking place, and knowing that people are actually tuning in to listen.

Finally, I have to tip my hat to the CBC for the effort they’ve put into the show’s website. It’s remarkable how much stuff they have going on, from the blogs to the podcasts, the message board, the Facebook group, the Flickr photo collection, and especially all of the excellent archival content including interviews with the selected authors and other interesting background. They really have their act together. The whole program seems to be operating like a very efficient machine now, right down to the books being republished with the Canada Reads logo printed on the cover. Those aren’t stickers! And how nice of them was it to want to get us internet types involved? It just gives me a warm glow. And you, Steve?

Steven: I’m glowing like a David Suzuki-approved, energy-efficient compact fluorescent light bulb. No, really, it is very kind of the CBC to invite us online commentators to throw in our two cents’ worth and I’m chuffed to be participating.

I will admit that when Canada Reads first launched in 2002 I looked on it with a somewhat jaundiced eye, as I do most things, and not just because it seemed to baldly replicate the “One City, One Book” concept. The whole notion of a Survivor-style elimination contest struck me as a craven marketing gimmick and seemed somehow … anti-literary, almost. I tried to picture Gore Vidal and Cynthia Ozick with headphones clasped to their ears, passionately expostulating about the literary merits of this novel over that collection of stories, and I was frankly unable.

But over the years, as the program has evolved and grown, I’ve revised my initial opinion and have become generally more enthusiastic about the endeavour. In past years, I’ve been cheered not only because the program seems to give the highlighted books a bump at the cash register, but also because it shines a light on titles such as Jacques Poulin’s Volkswagen Blues that might otherwise languish in unjustified obscurity. True, every year there’s at least one title that I find virtually unreadable – Monique Proulx’s The Heart Is an Involuntary Muscle is perhaps the most notorious example from years past, and there is one on this year’s list (of which, more later) – but by and large the books are solid.

And the winners are never predictable. Alice Munro might be considered a shoo-in to take a contest of this nature, but the year that Love of a Good Woman was on the list it was booted off in the first or second round. By contrast, Hubert Aquin’s notoriously difficult postmodernist novella Next Episode took the prize in 2003, and Frank Parker Day’s Rockbound, which had been virtually forgotten by everyone except academics and, apparently, Donna Morrisey, won in 2005.

A large part of this has to do with the nature of the selection process, which, as you suggest, Alex, is not collaborative among three jury members, all of whom share a similar sensibility. And I think the idea of having an astronaut – along with a musician (before he was a writer, Dave Bidini was in a little Canadian band called The Rheostatics), a hip-hop poet, and an actor (and, yes, okay, one novelist) – is brilliant. One of the reasons the lists of competing books have been historically so diverse is that they are not subject to all the politics and psuedo-highmindedness that surround granting organizations and awards juries. These books are actually chosen by readers, on the basis of how much the reader enjoyed the experience of reading the text. When you listen to the show, the people arguing for the various titles are passionately engaged, because they actually like the books they’re advocating. By contrast, the Scotiabank Giller Prize telecast is a masterpiece of soporific boredom.

The other reason I’m intrigued about this year’s iteration of Canada Reads is that for the first time it will be hosted by Jian Ghomeshi, who is taking over for Bill Richardson. Ghomeshi’s Q program on CBC Radio is another cultural artifact that I was initially suspicious of, but have been largely won over by, and largely because of the host. Ghomeshi brings a youthful exuberance to the proceedings, and is a smart and articulate interviewer and commentator. So I’m looking forward to listening to the 2008 edition of Canada Reads under his aegis, and to the inevitable Monday-morning quarterbacking that we’ll no doubt engage in here.

Let the games begin.

Alex: You found one of this year’s books unreadable? This is already getting interesting.

Up next: The 2008 selections previewed!

Yr. Humble Correspondent Emerges from His Self-imposed Exile to Point Out an Observation that — Unreconstructed Lech that He Is — He Wholeheartedly Endorses

Posted 19 February, 2008 in Bookish | No comments

“I wish there were more sex in books, actually: not more souls melding together in bliss or dancing together like dolphins in heaven or wherever they dance, but sex acts. I want to know exactly what people do, how long they take, whether they both like it, whether they giggle, whether they both get off and how they feel about it afterwards — and I want to know all the awkwardnesses and embarrassments that result. Sex is as complicated and fraught as any human interaction: it seems arbitrary to cut out such a crucial battleground from our stories.”

– Russell Smith, from the Introduction to Diana: A Diary in the Second Person

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