Stone Soup: Kate Marshall Flaherty (review by Katherine L. Gordon)

Stone Soup
by Kate Marshall Flaherty
Quattro Books Inc. Publisher        


Reviewed by Katherine L. Gordon                                                 
Poet, Publisher, Judge and Reviewer.


From a butter-cream background cover an ancient iron pot entices, it has  the four legs: earth, air, water and fire, grounding the circle of the cauldron of life.

Stone Soup is the apt title of Kate Marshall Flaherty’s book, evocative of the cauldron of renewal as well as the brew of soul-food we all share in, each of us unique in the co-operative effort of trying to nourish each other through the rough, the ritual and the jubilation of days. The stones of this book jangle through some of the poems,  each of us surely carrying one, the rough edges, the smooth, even the cutting ones as in Kate’s poem “every boy should have a stone in his pocket.”

These are our contributions to the simmering pot of days: “to purge all that’s not best.” Little events stir profound observations in Kate, in language equally accessible and wondrous: “Like rough prayer beads/to feed his family”  from Light Within, and the amazing “alleluia!” of The God Particle.

The spirituality of diverse cultures is gathered here,  added to the collaborative soup, to nourish with insight not division. Kate begins with a Dragon Fruit section, the taste of the exotic and the plain blending harmoniously.  She has a trick of catching the sublime in the simple, so much sacred in all human action. Much reverence glows in the reference to Native lore, as in Lost: the “migwetch” for all natural beauty.

Her feelings so palpably human as in Mosquitoes, yet so connected to the deeper dimensions we sense.  Next of Kin in the Lost section is a revolution of thought, our beginnings, our shared condition with all creatures. Fairy tales are here, reality is here, all blessed with a light Kate knows and transmits so easily to the surprised and enriched reader.  Her language can leap from literary lovely to playful patois,  entertaining and delightful. It is quite a mix.

As in the original folk-tale, the outcome is up to all those who enrich the meal. The reader will partake and be permeated with the revelation of Stone Soup.

Ray Souster Tribute Launch - Patrick Connors

Under the Mulberry Tree

By patrick on January 20, 2014

New Book and Launch event Honour Raymond Souster

Patrick Connors – Toronto:  On Wednesday, January 15^th, Quattro Books released Under the Mulberry Tree, a book of poems celebrating the life and legacy of Raymond Souster.  A true “People’s Poet”, Souster passed away in Toronto last year at the age of 91 after a lengthy illness.  This tribute to his work and personality was edited by longtime friend James Deahl.

James Deahl with Quattro Books employee Kristen Blank – Photo Credit: Anna Yin

“Even if Ray Souster had never written a poem, edited a literary magazine, published a book, or hosted a public reading, he was a truly great and honourable man,” Deahl said. “Ray showed how to live a life of grace and compassion. It was a privilege to know him.”

“I first encountered Ray Souster’s poems almost half a century ago,” said Norma West Linder, a contributing poet to the anthology. “Seeing the way he made the ordinary into the extraordinary with the art that disguises art, I was inspired to try my own hand at writing poetry.”

In all, there are 35 poets to the book, paying affectionate and admiring tribute to Souster, widely considered one of the most important figures in Canadian poetry in the second half of the 20^th Century. He was a groundbreaking poet of wide-ranging influence who distinguished himself as an editor, publisher, readings organizer, and mentor. The contributors include some who knew Souster personally and others from younger generations who are extending the tradition of modernist “People’s Poetry” in a Sousterian spirit.

“When I consider the mutual friendship I had with Ray, I’d have to say serendipity and pleasant fortune is my connection to him,” said Michael Fraser, another contributing poet, and a co-ordinator of the excellent Plasticine Poetry reading series.  “I was immensely fortunate to have been welcomed into his house and have the opportunity to bask in his brilliance.”

14 of the contributors appeared at the launch event, held in the upstairs of Tequila Bookworm, located at 512 Queen Street West.  One of them was noted Toronto-based poet and editor Mick Burrs.

“2 years before Ray passed away, James Deahl told me that I lived in the same neighbourhood as Souster,” Burrs said.  “In fact, I had been for a number of years.

“He was a major Canadian poet, and I got to meet one of my idols in person, although it took 70 years!

“After James introduced me to Ray, I in turn introduced him to Kent Bowman, who is also in the anthology.  Ray and Kent were jazz afficionado’s, and could talk about music for hours.

“Also, we would always talk poetry with Ray, sharing our poems with one another.  In general, he stood by a lot of poets, encouraging them, even starting the League of Canadian Poets.

“I felt saddened when he died.  You just enjoyed being with him.”

Burrs poem, “Basho Watching Baseball”, appears in the anthology, and marked the beginning of the reading.  “Another thing Ray and I talked about was baseball.  We would discuss it on the phone, how the Jays were doing, during commercial breaks.”

 

The second stanza is simply:

“During a dull night game
 at last the dome opens –
     ah, the full moon!”

“This is something I experienced at a Jays game, and, of course, many others have, as well.  Inside the climate-controlled environment of the Rogers Centre, you are not experiencing the reality of the outside world.  The shock of the last line, the appearance of the full moon, is what makes it a haiku.

“Whenever Ray was talking about something he was passionate about, whether it was jazz, baseball, or poetry, he forgot he wasn’t feeling well.  In turn, we forgot he wasn’t feeling well.”

The launch event itself included stories of Souster’s influence on the presenters, both personally and poetically.  It was emotional without being maudlin, and brought everyone in the crowded room into a kind of communal participation, whether they knew Souster or not. 

“I think one measure of the success of a book launch is the number of the writers in attendance who are not there to read their own work or promote themselves, but to celebrate the poetry of some other writer,” Deahl said. “More to the point, there were about 15 people in the room I had never seen before. When people attend a poetry event who you did not personally invite, that is amazing. It demonstrates the respect people have in their hearts for Ray Souster.”

Also, the service at Tequila Bookworm was very good.

In 2012, there were revivals of the extraordinary work of Irving Layton (http://newz4u.net/archives/28339), as well as Milton Acorn (http://newz4u.net/archives/32987).  I am hopeful that 2014 will see a compilation of Souster’s work released—or at least set in motion—to bring his work and his place in the Canadian literary canon to a new generation of readers.

with files from Quattro Books

Tribute Launch for Ray Souster Jan. 15th

QB Launch: "Under the Mulberry Tree: Poems for & about Raymond Souster" When: Wed, January 15, 7pm – 9pm Where: Tequila Bookworm, Queen Street West, Toronto, ON, Canada (map) Please join editor James Deahl, consulting editor Allan Briesmaster, and a dozen of the 35 contributing poets for the launch of "Under the Mulberry Tree: Poems for & about Raymond Souster", from Quattro Books . Under the Mulberry Tree is an anthology of poems paying affectionate and admiring tribute to one of the most important figures in Canadian poetry in the second half of the 20th Century. Raymond Souster (1921-2012) was a groundbreaking poet of wide-ranging influence who distinguished himself like no one else, as an editor, publisher, readings organizer, and mentor. The poets contributing to this anthology include some who knew Souster personally and others from younger generations who are extending the tradition of modernist “People’s Poetry” in a Sousterian spirit.                                        ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  The shy man was absent (Raymond Souster Tribute, Nov. 22, 2011) The shy man was absent from his own poetry tribute sixty plus of us crammed the second floor of Runnymede Library the shy man's bookish retreat for most of his 90 years The shy man's imprint was Contact (irony universal in poetry's ascent) he made contact with poetry readings poetry magazines and poetry organizations poetry of the best, by the best but poetry for everyone The shy man slipped his teller's cage miraculously to birth, with a few close friends the modern age of Canadian poetry A bank teller, for God's sake who never swore, womanized stole a dime, overwrote a line Will he even show up for his own funeral? will we file past an empty casket the shy man busy elsewhere, composing perhaps When the shy man passes to join his legion of friends in the Canuck poetry pantheon we earthbound ones will need a statue or two to fix his shy spirit a place beside bronze Al in Queen's Park? (Al shy? - all poets are shy) or comfortable yards apart from an even shyer genius Glen on his permanent bench outside CBC quarters? until the time of bust in bronze poet after poet visits Ray in a nursing home just around Runnymede's comfortable corner  But tonight the shy man's legacy connects a tribal gathering of poets his tribute        not one empty chair Chris Faiers                           ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~  ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~  Jan.9, 2014 Hi James, Your wonderful tribute to Ray arrived yesterday. I picked it up last night on my way over to watch bad TV with Chase at Morley's. Heartfelt content - every damn poem! - beautifully produced - great intro which gives the scope of Ray's contributions to CanPo. What an honour to be in the company of such great poets - it's a Who's Who of CanPo. I was bragging to Morley about how many of our co-contributors are GG winners. Morley asked if that was as high an honour as receiving the Order of Canada. I explained there are dozens of OofCs awarded every year, but only ONE GG for poetry. Morley was suitably impressed  :  ) As with the Milt issue of THE AMBASSADOR, every one of your projects hits a new high. It's hard to encapsulate everything you've done for People's Poetry, Milt, & CanPo in general over the decades. I told Terry during our marathon 'chat' this week that even tho the Cuban censors, or Tai, or God knows who omitted Terry's piece on Milt & Che, well, this just adds some major spice to the stew (to hopelessly garble metaphors) of your many projects. My mechanic told me on Tuesday that the Sube should last a while longer after about $1K in repairs. So good news all around, except the mechanic won't be able to round up the parts for the major work on the Sube's suspension until next week, so my participation has become even more highly unlikely for the launch of MULBERRY TREE    : (  :  ( I'm also looking forward to the spring release of Terry's new book on People's Poetry. Our tribe (Fellowship of the Acorn?) is sure doing a lot of moving & grooving on the CanPo scene these days. And People's Poetry festivals are springing up everywhere like dandelions (yeah, but we did it first 8 years ago!). Mucho thanks & congrats again, James! peace & poetry power! Chris ...  & Chase Wrffffffffffffffffffffffffff!                      ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ray Souster Tribute book update & launch info (James Deahl)

October 22, 2013


Dear Contributor,

         I thought it was time for an update on Under the Mulberry Tree: Poems for & about Raymond Souster. This anthology was to have been published by Fourfront Editions, an imprint of Quattro Books. It will now be published by Quattro itself. This is happy news. This will insure greater library sales

         Under the Mulberry Tree will be launched in Toronto on January 15, 2014, Ray’s birthday. Please let me know if you think you would like to participate in the book launch.

         Also, one of you contributors send a photo of Ray in a blue and red “Oberon” sweatshirt sitting at a piano. I have forgotten who sent this. It is to be used in the tribute book and I want to give a proper photo credit. It looks as though it was taken 20 to 25 years ago. If it is yours, please let me know.

         Finally, as a contributor you will receive one copy of the anthology in January. If you would like to buy additional copies at a reduced price, please let me know how many. Under the Mulberry Tree will likely be priced by the publisher at about $20. If so, I will be able to sell you additional copies at $15 (includes postage).

         Thank you for being part of the Souster tribute.

Fraternally,

         .  . . James

Jack Layton Tribute book published

 

I received this impressive book last night - its 300 pages
crammed into my tiny village mail box.

I'm pushing this book for the many reasons:
Jack was the only living Canuck politiko I reluctantly
came to believe in, he was a supporter of the arts, & a
wannabe artist himself (Jian Ghomeshi claims Jack as
a mentor, but calls his musicianship 'dodgy'!), & Jack
got things done on every level of politiks.

My longtime friend Sylvia lives in what is still known as
Jack's riding in Toronto's east end. An abandoned fire
station at the bottom of Pape Avenue above Queen St.
E. was the perfect location for a women's shelter,
but the NIMBYs fought it tooth & nail.  Jack & Olivia
won out, and every night when I'm in TO we walk our
dogs past this monument to Jack's conviction &
stubborness. In nice weather the residents come & go,
or relax by the grand entrance, and almost always
someone will call out to us and pet our dogs.

                           .................................................

I'm lefthanded & a poet, so I don't read books in
conventional fashion. I start at the back & read to the
front, & of course I mostly read the poetry first. Last
night I read until blurry eyes forced me to let the book
drop. I enjoyed pieces by old poetry friends and
comrades, many of whom I've shared pages with in
other anthologies and tributes.

Penn Kemp's consulting editor is Allan Briesmaster,
and some of Allan's poets from CROSSING LINES:
POETS WHO CAME TO CANADA IN THE
VIETNAM WAR ERA are here remembering Jack:
Daniel Kolos, Ellen Jaffe, Terry Ann Carter, Ronnie
R. Brown and myself.

There are terrific poems by People's Poets like Joe
Blades (with my favourite poem so far - simple &
funny & capturing Jack at an airport - sans
bodyguards or retinue, relaxed, unassuming,
sipping red wine). Another favourite is the poem
by Andreas Gripp, who has dragged an uninformed
friend to an event, & who insists on confusing the
histories of Irving and Jack LAYTON! Every
poet has a similar tale of a good friend with a very
blind spot regarding the appreciation of poetry, &
this piece is a romp. 

Robert Priest's tale of performing the tail end of a
music gig, with Jack being the only audience
member left standing,  proves what a fine essayist
Robert has become. Poet - yeah, he's TO's poet king,
& why the hell Priest never got the acclaim for his
music while far lesser bangers & wheezers got the
Junos - well, at least we got him as a People's Poet. 

                      !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There's a launch coming up at The Ravioli on May 2nd,
with an after party at Q Space. This is in the truest spirit
of Jack Layton - parties with music & singing & a glass
or two of red or an arm swinging in time with a frothing
beer attempting escape.
 
   

 

REAL GONE: Jim Christy's guidebook to the 60s (review)

Real Gone by Jim Christy

Real Gone turns the myth of the Sixties on its head. The protagonist may be a peripatetic young man on an intense search but he knows that the gaff is in. There are sex and drugs, of course, and politics, even a little rock and roll. There is also Rhythm and Blues, and jail and murder; some famous people have walk-on parts but they are no match for a wild assortment of obscure rounders, radicals and roustabouts. Set in 1967-1968, the novella records the very moment that an empire reached its peak and started its decline.
Like the protagonist of Real Gone, Jim Christy grew up in Philadelphia, led a knockabout life in the United States which included carnivals, hoboing, and professional boxing, was involved in radical politics and moved to Canada in 1968. As well as being a writer, he is also a widely exhibited visual artist and has recorded CDs of poetry and music and performed in various countries. Recent books include the novel The Redemption of Anna Dupree (2004) and the nonfiction book Scalawags (Anvil Press, 2008).
Jim Christy

Following is my review:



Real Gone, Jim Christy
Quattro Books, 2010
125 pages, $16.95
isbn 978-1-926802-01-5


I've been hanging out from time to time with 'my new farm neighbour' Jim Christy. I first met Jim and his partner, artist Virginia Dixon, at the Another Dam Poetry Reading at PurdyFest two summers ago. Immediately I recognized fellow travelers in this striking couple - esp. Christy with his killer grin, two front teeth glittering golden. Someone introduced us, and though our literary paths have criss-crossed, it was the first time we'd actually met. I was a bit star-struck, and mumbled, "You're THE Jim Christy, the iconic Canadian writer?" or somesuch blather. Christy responded by giving me his latest book, reviewed here, & signed it: To Chris, please forgive my anti-Americanism! your new friend, Jim Christy   

I'm always swamped with books during PurdyFests, most gifts, some purchased. REAL GONE drifted to the bottom of that summer's various piles, and in the procrastinating interim, I've had the pleasure of hearing a few of the anecdotes in this book in person. Christy is a master raconteur, and that's one of the things I like most about this slim volume. Christy doesn't overwrite his incredible anecdotes about being everywhere, doing everything, and meeting everyone. If he had, this book would be a thousand pages. Better to use the book as a guidebook to both the 1960s and to Christy's stories, and to sip a beer and listen - closely - to Christy personally fleshing out the details in his tall, but all true, tales.

My one complaint is I wish the publisher had provided an index. On his writerly dharma path through the 60s, Christy encountered just about every famous personality, and attended just about every key event. There are the earliest days of hippiedom in Haight-Ashbury,  Jim Garrison and the Warren Commission, 'on the road' escapades to Mexico al la Kerouac, Janis Joplin, the Pentagon demonstration, the Chicago Democratic convention riots, Peter Orlovsky, Valerie Solanas, Martin Luther King's funeral - quick takes on each. I'd like to be able to thumb through an index and easily revisit events and characters. And as Christy experienced such an incredible array of characters and events, an index would make this memoir far more accessible, especially for future documentarians, historians and writers on the 1960s.

That silly 60s' cliche, "If you remember them, you weren't there!" doesn't apply to writers. Memories are a writer's stock in trade, and Christy remembers very well. Even the dialogue is fresh and immediate - I'll have to ask Christy sometime if he has a photographic (phonographic??) memory. Almost two decades ago I heard a radio interview with Eric Clapton, and Mr. Clapped-Out claimed he had no idea what he was thinking in those heady times. Christy remembers.

He remembers and captures for readers what the U.S. of A. was like during the waning era of Jim Crow in the American south. As a workingclass but progressive hitchhiker in the 1960s, Christy was rousted time after time by the cops for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Christy  remembers his youthful thoughts and political awakenings, the angst and turmoil of dealing with draft boards and the ever-present horror of the imperialist War in Vietnam.

Reading REAL GONE I realized how many common experiences Christy and I share. We both consulted and worked with Quakers Friends Service Committees, hoping for conscientious objector status. Neither of us was successful in obtaining CO status, and while we negotiated and avoided our draft boards, we somehow lived day-to-day through those turbulent times.

My father and I also had a very similar and parallel confrontation to Christy and his father during the riots at the Chicago Democratic convention in the summer of 1968. For both of us, watching TV with our parents proved a seminal and deciding moment in our ultimate decisions to avoid the Vietnam War and to move to Canada. Whereas Christy and his dad came close to blows, my father and I came even closer. During one particularly vicious assault, probably on a young woman being beaten by the Chicago cop/thugs, I couldn't stop myself from yelling out at the TV, "You motherf...ers!" My father started to swing on me, I blocked his punch, and was about to return the favour, when he whimpered, "You'd hit your father!" "You'd hit your son!", I told the man who'd been a Squadron Leader for the Royal Air Force (RAF) during World War Two. I'd long realized my father was a rabid anti-Semite, and the contradiction of him fighting against Hitler had started to confuse me, but his reputation as some sort of brave hero dissolved that night in our screened porch on Key Biscayne. All I could think was what a coward, expecting to hit a young man appalled by police brutality. And then cowering when I had the effrontery to consider hitting him back. Since then, no one has assaulted me without  risking my immediate response.

What were we thinking? What were we feeling back then, in that heady apocalyptic and decisive decade? Christy remembers and records the internal as well as the external, all too well. No revisionist historians, no jealous younger writers will be able to change our recordings of those times. We WERE there, and we DO remember. REAL GONE is an important historical document, as well as the fascinating memoir of a major modern writer updating the experiential tradition of Jack Kerouac and George Orwell.

Chris Faiers
June 12, 2012
from my blog, Riffs & Ripples from ZenRiver Gardens:
http://riffsandripplesfromzenrivergardens.blogspot.com/

notes:
My book on the 1960s is online as EEL PIE DHARMA  (find on Google) to be republished this fall by Hidden Brook Press as EEL PIE ISLAND DHARMA
Another interesting resource is THE TASTE OF METAL: A DESERTER'S STORY, by Jack Todd,
2001, Harper Collins, 253 pages  
     

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responses:

thanks, Anna  :  )
He's a very important figure in CanLit and CanPo. When I called him an icon, he replied, "That's just 'noci' spelled backwards."

When I asked Jim how his book had been received, he said it basically fell thru the cracks. Too bad. The 1960s were a seminal & critical decade, esp. in North America, & Christy's book  (and mine) are important memoirs of that period. I hope my review & your posting will stimulate further purchases & reviews of REAL GONE!

peace & poetry power!
Chris ... and Chase ... wrfffffffffffffffffff! (we're hiding from a thunderstorm, & I'm drinking chiraz red wine)

On 2012-06-12, at 4:57 PM, anna yin wrote:

Hi Chris,

http://www.jimchristyoutsiderart.com/wordwork1.html

Jim is very interesting.

I posted your review and his website to coviews.com (english garden).

Anna

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Publisher: Quattro Books
Price: $16.95 paper
ISBN: 978-1-92680-201-5
Page count: 126 pp.
Size: 5 x 8
Released: May

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Real Gone

by Jim Christy

Real Gone is a meandering novella about a draft dodger in the 1960s who moves to Canada. Written by one-time American Jim Christy, who relocated to Canada in 1968, the book reads like a memoir.
The narrator, also named Jim Christy, reconstructs a year or so of his life when he was in his early twenties, driving around America with buddies and girlfriends, contemplating the cruelty of bigots and the naïveté of hippies, getting arrested and drafted, deciding to flee north, and taking part in a murder trial.
Written in Christy’s customary plainspoken prose style, Real Gone presents a portrait of an America polarized between revolutionaries and racists. The narrator fashions himself as an anarchist and has no kind words to say about the crazies on either side. If he identifies with any group, it’s the black underclass. He has a deep knowledge of old time rhythm and blues, studies at a black college, and is the only white guy to attend a lecture by Muhammad Ali on the Nation of Islam. (Ali shakes Christy’s hand and hams it up for the cheering crowd while whispering in his ear, “What you doin’ here, boy?”).
Increasingly, Christy has no answer to that question. He attempts to go to Atlanta for the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.’s funeral, dodging race riots along the way, but ends up in a North Carolina jail for being out on the street after curfew.
America, he concludes, has no place for the likes of him. Before he can leave, though, he’s called as a character witness at a good friend’s trial for murder. The trial goes better than expected, but the accused man is still convicted. Christy heads for Canada, and the book comes to a sudden close.
Ultimately, this slim volume is more first act than complete story. Canada, in this fiction, is the Promised Land, or at least not the Land of Chaos. Canadian readers may find this storyline comforting, but the mythology of the 1960s as the most important decade – and Canada as the Great, Sane, Liberated Place – is more than stale. Entering Canada, Jim Christy (protagonist) leaves behind the outrageous U.S., but this doesn’t offer the reader narrative satisfaction.

Reviewed by Michael Bryson (from the July 2010 issue)

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