January 29th, 2010

Lit Bits

1) JD Salinger, literary hero of many youths (including this one) has died. I haven’t read a lot of the coverage, but I have seen a few references to the fellow as the author of “just one novel,” and while I loved The Catcher in the Rye as much as anyone (so much!), I am a bit miffed for Franny and Zooey and Nine Stories (one of my lifetime fave short-story collections), and even Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenters and Seymour: an Intorduction, the first half of which I did truly enjoy (and the second…oh dear).

But I can’t feel quite as sad as I think I ought to about the passing of such a great author. Of course, I didn’t know him personally (though my cousin did meet him once in the library at Dartmouth, a fact I always try to seem unimpressed about, and fail). It’s more that I haven’t been reading straight along with him–he stopped publishing decades ago, and I haven’t read any Salinger for the first time since my teens. Unlike, say, Mr. Updike, we weren’t moving along together.

There is a bit of excitement going around that now all his output for the last many years will be revealed and published. I’m not sure that would happen, and anyway, though I greatly hope for something that can stun me like For Esme, with Love and Squalor, I fear a reprise of Hapworth 16, 1924, the last of his published work (in the New Yorker in 1965–that same cousin photocopied an old library copy). I hate that story, though in googling it just now I found some people like. Who knew? It is deeply boring to me. So I am worried that now lots of books will come out by Salinger and I will read them and not like them and be disappointed.

2) From a literary end to a literary beginning: I went with blogger and friend Kerry Clare and her daughter Harriet to Mables Fables in celebration of Family Literacy Week (which is, as it turns out, is not real–it is only Family Literacy Day except on Kerry’s blog. But I am still going to most my family-literacy post today or possibly tomorrow, in solidariy!

*Anyway,* our fieldtrip was wonderful, prefaced by cake and punctuated by the stroller blowing down the sidewalk past the store window. Even if you aren’t particularly interested in seeing photos of a bookstore (er, but why *not*?) you should click on Kerry’s link to see pictures of Harriet, a very lovely baby with great, if over-literal, taste in books!

RR

January 25th, 2010

Mark Purvis, 1975-2009

When I was one, my family moved into a new house. The family moving out had lost their little boy to a car when he ran into the road. He was two.

When I was in grade five, a grade-six boy in my school died in what was either a bizarre accident or a suicide.

Someone in my highschool committed suicide when I was in grade 11, and we made a memorial page in the yearbook though I don’t think many people actually knew the deceased–I don’t even know what grade he was in–which might have been part of the problem.

About four years back, a boy who had been close to my family died under circumstances I never fully understood. He was two years younger than me.

Twice in past few years, I have come across “in memoriams” in my university alumni magazine of names I recognize–one a friend of friends, one a student politician. Both died in accidents in the mountains, years and continents apart.

Those above are, until now, all the people I know in my own age group who have died.

I met Mark Purvis when we were both involved in the short-lived Free Biscuit Theatre project (apparently no web-legacy remains) in 2007-2008. I joined despite not being an actor or theatre person because I thought writing words for someone to say as opposed to read would teach my something.

It did, but I also get pressed to perform, to serve shooters at a fundraiser, to do movement exercises and generally go way outside my comfort zone. I also got the great pleasure of shutting up and listening in presence of people who were educated and passionate about something I had only ever seen from the outside.

Mark was foremost in that regard–a dedicated actor who wasn’t serious about much else. He had endless energy to try *anything* anyone suggested–I never saw him perform as a clown, but he loved that as much as the “serious” parts I did see him in. He played Mathias in the play that’s linked there, *The Bells*, a massive and demanding and very bizarre role he did for Free Biscuit. He was wall-to-wall amazing and the production brought tremendous accolades (to be fair, all the Biscuits were outstanding, but Mark had the starring role).

Mark also had a fairly strong math and spreadsheet ability, gained in various dayjobs. He volunteered to use his not-much-loved gifts to do the Free Biscuit bookkeeping. He never complained about the extra work, and I’m pretty sure he used his control of our funds to make sure he was never paid at all for his performance in *The Bells*.

I didn’t really know Mark all that much–we hung out every few weeks for a year–but I always felt really amazed at how seriously he took me, and how much he wanted to help with my sad attempts at at performance. Once, he and his girlfriend took an entire evening to go through my 10-minute monologue over and over again with me until I no longer (quite) wanted to die at the thought of doing it in front of an audience, and I know they listened seriously and intently every single time.

Once, a bunch of us went out to the suburbs to see Mark perform in an outdoor Shakespearian festival. When the performance got rained out, we repaired to Crabby Joe’s in a not-ironic-enough urban gesture, where Mark regaled us with crazy, hilarious, filthy stories. I was so proud when we realized the couple at the next table had stopped speaking to each other entirely, the better to overhear.

Once, Mark and his girlfriend had a miniperformance at their place because they had built a *stage* in their living room (with lights!) Mark comforted me about my terror of performing by telling me the story of the time he met William Shatner.

This is a memorial to a person I didn’t know well–perhaps not even a friend but rather one of those wonderful acquaintances that make life joyful. I feel lucky to have met him, and shocked that he passed away. It is terrifying to me that someone could be my own age and no longer alive–I’m not nearly ready.

Of course, no one is ever ready. All we can do, I think, is as Mark did: everything we can for everyone we meet in the moment that we are.

RR

December 22nd, 2009

Rose-coloured and Mark review Milk Coffee Pocky

November 26th, 2009

This week in review

Of course, this week is not technically over yet, but rather a lot has already happened. I think it was enough to occupy an entire week if it was spread out, and I am rather hoping nothing further will happen until next. Thus, I dare to pre-emptively summarize:

Tuesday: I attended the Writers’ Trust Awards. It is a pretty glitzy event, with roaming waiters and lots of excited chat before the ceremony. At the ceremony, the Journey Prize was the first to be awarded, which meant co-presenter Anita Chong and I could get our moment of stress out of the way early and enjoy the show! I had perhaps 200 words to say, and really people just wanted to know who won, but I was very worried about flubbing it, or not even making it to the podium because I had spotted a gap between the top of stairs and the stage where I could easily wedge my foot.

But nothing happened like that, and I was able to present the winner, Yatsuko Thanh, for her story Floating Like the Dead with no trouble. What an honour to do so, and what an incredible story. I was charmed by how sincerely stunned Ms. Thanh seemed, and was really glad I got a chance to meet her. And the other two incredible finalists, Dave Margoshes for “The Wisdom of Solomon” and Daniel Griffin for “The Last Great Works of Alvin Cale.” An evening like this one really makes me feel alive to all the wonder and diversity of wonders in CanLit.

I was also happy to see that Annabel Lyon took the fiction prize though I have not read the celebrated book, *The Golden Mean*. But if my intense love of her first book, Oxygen is any indication, I should. And I was pleased to hear that, though Ms. Lyon was also pretty stunned by the win, she remembered to mention in her speech all those smaller literary magazines where she got her start, and to please for no further cuts to arts funding in Canada.

Wednesday: On Wednesday morning I went out to University of Toronto Scarborogh to do a guest lecture in my fellow UofT Creative Writing alumni Daniel Tysdal‘s short story class. I did, as promised read the end of a story, “Massacre Day.” When I told the students that I would read the last three pages of that piece, I had the extraordinary experience of watching a roomful of students pull out copies of my book and prepare to follow along.

But that extraordinariness did not all compare with the level discussion after my reading and (very brief) talk. The students were reading intently and speaking insightfully, not just about my work (although I appreciated that very much) but about everything they laid their eyes and minds on. What a fantastic way to spend a morning.

That evening, was the Biblioasis fall poetry party, featuring Zachariah Wells, Shane Neilson and Robyn Sarah. The non-present presence of a 4th poet was Wayne Clifford, whose work was read by all three of the others to make up for his absense. It was really cool to get three interpretations of one voice.

Also last night, I got to meet London, Ontario, novelist A.J. Somerset who just won the Metcalf-Rooke Award. There’s a lot of literary winning going on this week!

Today, is the real American Thanksgiving, I’m pretty sure, so I am wishing you all a happy one of those–I remain as Thankful I was last week, on fake Thanksgiving. Also today, due to a minor incident, I was without tights for a portion of the day, and it was actually warm enough that I didn’t mind dreadfully, temperature-wise. The upside of global warming. What was strange is that I felt like a total scandal, bare knees and nothing under my dress but panties, when of course that is how I spent the entire summer. I think winter makes me puritanical.

I also spent part of today talking books with Kerry Clare while I lay on the floor eating scones and playing with her baby daughter. That was, as you might imagine, delightful.

To continued, low-impact delight.
RR

November 13th, 2009

Rose-coloured reviews Kimchi House, Jasper, Alberta

Note: this is review is in conjunction (but not consultation) with a review by my dining companion, AMT. Please see her blog for another perspective on the same meal (I’ll edit this to add a link when hers is up).

Right, so the small mountain town of Jasper, Alberta, is beautiful, semi-remote, mildly touristy and not at all the first stop on anyone’s Asian cuisine binge. Nevertheless, there is both a Chinese and a Korean restaurant in town, and as my dining companion had had previous good experiences at KimChi House, we decided to go there for our one dinner in Jasper.

I needed little convincing, being a lover of Korean food and inhabitant of a city that is a much more probable destination if one were seeking to (over-)indulge in the stuff.

So the first thing to report is that the kimchi was subpar. I eat a lot of kimchi, the spicy pickled cabbage that is so much of the Korean diet. I can’t really be called an expert, as I can’t make it (I think it actually takes a village to make kimchi) but I know what I like–lots of sticky bright red chili paste and salty-sweet-spicy flavour. This kimchi was overwhelmed with brine, and had very little chili paste–it was sort of pinkish beige, and very drippy. Also not so spicy, although it was the drippiness that really put me off.

Ok, that’s it for the negative–the rest of the food was excellent. I didn’t sample AMT’s bulgogi because I don’t eat beef, but it looked and smelled great. My own dak bulgogi (bulgogi only chicken instead of beef) arrived all sizzling on a cow-shaped platter and was stellar. I especially liked the random little bits of veggies–one broccoli floret, three mushrooms, a bit of celery, etc. The sauce wasn’t super-spicy (I’d ordered “medium”) but it had a good kick to it.

There was a thing of steamed rice that I didn’t eat (I don’t care about rice; sorry) and that was it for free side dishes. Unusual for Korean restaurants in Toronto, at least, which usually throw in two or three little dishes of pickles or somesuch. We paid $3 for the dribbly kimchi, plus $3 each for a wonderful if salty seafood salad (AMT’s choice) and a platter of lettuce leaves (my choice; the menu promised “leaf-lettuce salad). I made lettuce wraps out of my meat and the lettuce, which was quite tasty but not quite orthodox.

Ambience: a nice big restaurant, well-appointed but undistinguished. I appreciated the lack of “look, Asian stuff” art–it was just comfortable. The music was, unfortunately, some sort of classical hits album. When we entered, something from the Nutcracker was playing (full disclosure–AMT id’d everything that played, but I only nailed the wedding march.) The aspect that of course the restauranteurs didn’t directly control was the other patrons. On the night we dined, these were: someone waiting for takeout and fiddling with a laptop; a man eating alone who later came over to ask us what we’d ordered and if we liked it (I couldn’t tell if this was genuine culinary fascination or loneliness–I ran out of things to say about dak bulgogi, but I would have chatted with him more about something or other if I could have discerned what he wanted); a young couple in ski jackets, he with pants and a shirt underneath, she in a wedding down. Perhaps the classical march was appropriate. Anyway, it was all interesting.

The meal was a bit on the expensive side. Even leaving out the a la carte sides, $18 is more than most Torontonians would pay for bulgogi. But well, it is the mountains, I suppose you pay more for the ingredients being trekked into the mountains. And perhaps we were subsidizing the lack of other patrons. Anyway, the owner came out and talked to me while AMT was in the bathroom, and she seemed charming and dedicated and very very nervous about our liking the food. Her family immigrated 9 years ago.

So while I do have to disclose that my dining companion spent a small but striking portion of the night throwing up, I am not sure what to make of it. It seemed like such a nice place–maybe everyone screws up once in a while.

RR

November 10th, 2009

Alberta is attractive

I like it here. Here in Edmonton there is a river and a majestic legislature building and lots of good food and friendly people (most of whom my host seems to know; certainly someone in every coffee shop we enter!) Also swing dancers and linguistics labs and a bunny rabbit just hanging out in a park downtown. Also, the sentence has been uttered, “I might get so excited about the interactive VHS Star Trek game that I have to use my inhaler.” Clearly, there has been no lack of entertainment here.

And then there was a road trip to Jasper National Park. And though that bunny will always have a special place in my heart, it will be a bit crowded in with the deer, bighorn sheep, bald eagle, coyote, elk (some of them angry), crows and magpies. Also, while hiking in the show beside Medicine Lake, we discovered that the air smelled of cinnamon–clearly, some dried weed we had crushed underfoot emits this aroma. Magic! Anyone got ideas what it is?

Also, I’m just mildly proud of myself that I hiked with undo wussiness or death (albeit while wearing gloves I bought at Le Chateau). It is absolutely stunningly beautiful in Jasper, and there is something around every bend in the path, making the challenge of keeping on (and on) hard to resist. Here are a couple (of very many) pictures I took. These are from Athabasca Falls.

November 7th, 2009

Edmonton: the first 30 hours

Since arriving in Edmonton, I have done many things. I rode in a cab for half an hour without anyone except the driver (I have a taxi thing), I stayed up really late, I ran windsprints, I bought sweaters, I ate little tiny tacos, and mainly, I got to hang with AMT for enough time to talk about nonsense (my favourite sport). When I call someone long distance, I feel I have to have A+ material; when we are in the same room, I feel comfortable enough to blather.

Because the flight was in the middle of the night, I did not get the customary amount of reading done, though I did read a couple excellent essays in an ancient issue of Arc (2008, seriously, I’m behind). I was basically catatonic for the entire flight–not quite asleep, not quite awake. But again, no real jetlag, though I was pretty excited to go to sleep last night.

Today I am bright-eyed and ready to go meet AMT at her class. I get charge of the house keys and am determined to live up to the responsibility. Already, it’s not going so well, as I can’t figure out how to turn off several of her lamps, and being the person I am (a person who fears leaving lamps turned on all day will result in fire) I wound up unplugging them. Go, me!!

Ok, I’m to the streets of Edmonton, where it is bright and sunny and reasonably warm, but there is a wind warning in effect. Also, here they sell sandwiches at the Shoppers’ Drug Mart. It’s a whole other world.

RR

November 2nd, 2009

Reminder

that Amy Jones, Kathleen Winter and I are reading tomorrow at the Drawn & Quarterly store in Montreal, 211 rue Bernard West, at 7pm. And that it’s going to be awesome. And…yay!

I’m inarticulate because of being really really tired from Hallowe’en, which was also awesome, but went on an extra hour due to Daylight Savings, and then some, because my friends are cool and I try to keep up. I’m planning to sleep…now, pretty much, so I should be in better form by the time I’m in front of any audience tomorrow.

See you there?
RR

September 28th, 2009

Matching Quote Game

Everyone’s been just so quotable lately that I was going to just provide you with a list of highlights, but then I thought it would be even more fun to let readers match the quotations with their attributions–that’s the level of interactivity the internet is famous for, no? So here’s what they said:

a) I’m starting to feel just a little abused–like a coffee machine in an office.

b) She liked me as well as the next person, anyway, and the next person hadn’t come along yet.

c) This is like the confused leading the blind, leading a bunch of shrews. Don’t look so calm: you’re blind and you’ve got shrews on your tail!

d) The status is not quo.

e) Montreal metalheads are hardcore. At shows, they throw the skeletons of the people they’ve eaten onto the stage.

So who said what?

1) Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog

2) My friend J.

3) Leon Rooke

4) Shakira

5) Teenagers on subway

No links, to discourage you from looking this stuff up. Answers can go in the comments section, and I think the prize is only eternal glory, though I’ll try to think of something better than that. I’ll post right answers at the end of the week, to give time for the two or three people who actually ever play my reindeer games to play.

That’s amore
RR

September 25th, 2009

Week’s End Round-Up

As usual, there’s way too much going on and I’m falling behind, but let me try: Toronto’s very exciting, super-book streetfest, the ever-popular Word on the Street is back on Sunday–great for deal hunters and outdoor reading hunters, but now so populous as to be extremely unfortunate for agoraphobes. Fred explains how unwieldy and expensive hardcovers are an anglophone problem. Glee is apparently the best show ever made, but I of course don’t have a working tv so have only seen this bit (wow, and a website pinker than mine). Oh, and my story “Christmas with My Mother” is forthcoming in *Best Canadian Stories 09* from Oberon Press.

I’m sure there’s more; more reports as they surface.

Now put your hands up
RR