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Tuesday, 25 February 2014

The Poetry of Pat Connors' "Scarborough Songs" - Terry Barker


Lyrical Myrical Press, Toronto, Canada

McGee-Leninism Reborn? The poetry of Pat Connors' Scarborough Songs*

                                                   by Terry Barker


The field of People's Poetry in Canada in the last eighty years or so has been affected by reactions to what might be called the ideology of Mackenzie/Papineau-Leninism, the distinctively Canadian Communist cultural vision (on the analogy of the "market-Leninism" of China, or the "Marti-Leninism" of Cuba). Events in North America and around the world in the new millennium, however, have called into question the viability of the Canada which came into being on the basis (partly, at least) of the liberal populist elements of the British North America colonies of the 1840s, and thus, of the Marxian version of their thinking. A revision of this intellectual enterprise thus seems to be in order.

As I have argued elsewhere, a rejected radical tradition at the time of Confederation was that represented by Thomas D'Arcy McGee, the Irish-born Roman Catholic reformer and cultural critic. While verse by McGee became a well-known building block of Canada's emerging historical identity, his distinctive political perspective found no direct successors, its influence being confined to such Christian Communists as the Roman Catholic poet Joe Wallace (d. 1975), and the High Anglican People's Poet, Milton Acorn (1923 - 1986), a student of Wallace's work. That point of view combined social reform with cultural preservation and recovery within the framework of a genuinely Catholic Christianity. 

Recently, an echo of this what might be called "McGee-Leninism" has emerged in the circles of the "Catholic Left" and others in Canada influenced by Latin American "liberation theology". Notable in the poetic field in this regard is the Torontonian Patrick Connors, whose first collection of verse, Scarborough Songs, appeared from Lyricalmyrical in June, 2013. 

Although a traditionally slim volume, this eighteen-poem chapbook contains many nuggets of spiritual reflection combining personal and social dimensions of the author's experience in a highly compact Romantic manner. For example, Connors writes in "Renaissance":


                                Allowing the bounty of limitless grace
                              Growing in love we grow within each other
                                Bonding together, made ever stronger
                          Instruments of the divine by way of the sublime


The personal and the social are interwoven here in a way reminiscent of the "Romantic theology" of Britain and Germany in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and indeed, the only direct literary debt mentioned in the collection is to Coleridge's "Something Childish, but Very Natural", a stanza from which is the epigraph for Connors' "Something Mature and Very Unnatural: Written on the border of Scarborough". In this poem, Connors (in a way similar to that of Coleridge's inspirer, the mystic philosopher and critic of Hegel, F.W.J. von Schelling), extends the vision of the Romantic tradition from the intramundane to the transmundane truths, noting in its last stanza:


                         Sleep stays not though a monarch bids:
                                  Me to wait and let Him redeem
                                           What's won before;
                        Vision revealed - opened the eyelids
                                               See all that I sought and more


Growing up the son of working-class immigrants from Newfoundland in and around the somewhat bleak eastern Toronto suburb of Scarborough, the poet seems to have become acquainted with the muse who inspired Wallace and Acorn, both of whom had roots and associations with Eastern Canada as well as Toronto. Active with both his church and the Communist movement as they were, Connors has been prominent in the work of the International Festival of the Poetry of Resistance (IFPOR) group in Toronto for several years. This organization, set up in 2009 by Lisa Makarchuk and Maria Elena Mesa, later assisted by Carlos Angulo, the late Charles Roach and others, was established to promote poetry "on social justice themes" with what used to be called a "New Left" perspective. Currently, Connors' writing seems to be reflecting the tensions that are present in New Left ideology (and organizations based upon it) between the strong subjectivism of its Existentialist content, and the strong objectivism of its Materialist form. This philosophical problem is brilliantly described by Connors in his poem "Window", published in Northern Voices Journal:


                                              I imagine
                                              Laying down on
                                              The middle
                                              Of the ocean

                                              Looking down
                                              Through the clean clear ice
                                              At the bottom
                                              Of the world

                                              Wondering what
                                               Mysteries lie
                                               On the bitter
                                                Rocky floor



The bibliography is available on request from Terry Barker:

terrybarker2010@gmail.com

Terry Barker is a retired college teacher and independent scholar living in Toronto. He is the author of After Acorn (1999), Beyond Bethune (2006) and Continuing Chesterton (forthcoming, 2014).


*Scarborough Songs was published in Toronto in 2013 by Lyricalmyrical Press

Republication of this piece is encouraged, with first publication credited to this blog, Riffs and Ripples from ZenRiver Gardens.  

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

a bushrat's intimations of mortality at Callahan's Rapids

Rapids


in memory of Joe and Bob Hill


guy at the liquor store
old dude like me
12 pack on the conveyor belt
asks if the snow on my empties
is from ice fishing on Crowe Lake

'nope, just snow drifted into my porch
haven't been on the ice drinking beer
hoping for a pickerel bite in decades'

'Say, you must know some friends of mine?'
I answer with the Hill brothers,
Joe & Bob
old bushrat brothers who taught me
to fish & hunt when I moved here
quarter century ago
both been dead for a decade or more

'Don't know them,' he replied
what about Fred Smith?
yeah, he was a neighbour for a while
beautiful wife
'yeah, she left him for down south'

I say, 'I'd rather have liquor than a wife!'
half joking - maybe not
yeah, Joe & Bob Hill
they had a bunch of other brothers
but it was those two bushrats
who showed this big city kid
the ropes of rural life


Cordova outlaws - yeah
some tall true tales from those two
fought like all brothers
told some nasty stories on each other
maybe true
medals from World War Two
but which one!
or both

hydro crewmen
dynamite, booze
cooking in camps
on the hydro line cuts
which civilized this area
if Al Purdy had held a steady job
he'd a been one of them

Bob & Joe
tried to teach me to fish pickerel
Scott's Dam - bottle of rye
in my back pocket
sipped it to impress them
& dull the black fly bites

flies leave me alone now
they don't like bushrat blood
anyway - 
but flies sure loved my
virgin rye-laced freshness

after the LCBO drop-off
Chase & I wander Callahan's Rapids
the haunted trail - den-laced cedars
tracks everywhere - underground creeks
as well - careful every step
Chase & I take or we could be stranded
broken legs

and I think back on Bob & Joe Hill
can't remember if I promised not to write about them
crazy blood brothers who lived in this
halfway land of muskie rivers, creeks, swamps
Bob bragged he'd fucked on every island
in Cordova Lake
a challenge I've never followed
(well once or twice)

Bob & Joe
dead too young from alcohol
& doctors who don't respect bush people


Bob & Joe's stories reverberate:
the big bank robbery in Havelock
robbers had a boat stashed across Belmont Lake
when the dirt track ended the cops' chase lakeside
they paddled across smooth as silk
money & robbers never found -
some still looking for both


never thought before
but was it them?
my old bushrat buddies
Joe drove a new Lincoln
but his money I bet
came from his slicko gambling
slyer than the Campbellford
doctors & lawyers from campsite poker
he'd suck them in with mispronounced words
lose a few hands to the city suckers
then bang down big when the pot grew large

or ...........
all this aft's walk I thought of Bob & Joe
long, long gone to that big swamp in the sky
bushrat brothers, Bob measured his winters
by muskies lying on the snow of Blairton Bay

guess I'm the next generation now
not half as tough, but still upright
growing craggy & beer bellied
still walking the trails they showed me
the secret fishing holes
the icy islands where they lived & loved


Chris Faiers

January 20, 2014




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On 2014-02-12, at 11:06 PM, Ursula Pflug wrote:

love the poem, you should send it to the link maybe -UP


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On 2014-02-12, at 8:18 PM, Kathy Figueroa wrote:

Hi Chris!

Thank you, once again, for the kind words!  I'm glad that you like the photographs!  I think that the hardest part of putting this book together was choosing which picture(s) would best accompany each poem. 

The colour photos are going over so well that I've been considering producing a photo illustrated collection of some of the poems in my first book, "Paudash Poems."  Maybe I'll create a small chapbook featuring colour floral photography and garden poems.  ;o)

Thanks for letting me have a look at your new poem, "a bushrat's intimations of mortality at Callahan's Rapids."  It's very evocative and certainly reminds me of some people that I've met, over the years.

I hope that all is well with you!

Best wishes,

Kathy


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Ancestral Roofs has left a new comment on your post "a bushrat's intimations of mortality at Callahan's...":

Chris I like this a lot. My uncle Harry was a bushrat- you captured his voice and his view of the world. Hard life hard men. They'd cringe to be made poetry. But you did it.

Posted by Ancestral Roofs to Riffs & Ripples from ZenRiver Gardens at 14 February 2014 13:57

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On 2014-02-14, at 5:05 PM, Lindi Pierce wrote:

Love that poem - it really sticks to the ribs - the imagery. I can feel the cold and the hard life. Did you ever visit the Logging Museum at Algonquin Park? Somehow they recreated not just the images, but make the visitor feel the physicality (hunger, cold, injury, danger, even the smells of the shanty) of the life. You did that here.


Things are just beginning to form up for the A-frame season. The Purdy Picnic date has been set as Saturday July 26 - or did I tell you that already? Jean is lining up some poets, with Writer in Res Katherine Leyton, for the day. Michele and I will round up local writers - and we hope you can come down.


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(my reply to Lindi)

Hi Lindi,
Many thanks for your compliments on my 'bushrats' poem!  I suspect it will become one of my 'party pieces' - a poem which I inflict on listeners at as many poetry events as possible ; ) I'm very pleased with the responses it's received from several initial readers such as yourself.

I'm mulling over which A-frame volunteer activities to sign up for as listed in your earlier email - I don't remember there being the remains of Al's personal library in the A-frame - is it still there? If not, as both a retired village librarian & a poetic acolyte of Big Al & Milt, I'd like to start a CanLit library collection for the use of the A-frame writers-in-res, volunteers & visitors.

thanks again for the encouragement - we all need it to survive ;  )
peace & poetry power!
Chris ... & Chase Wrfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff!

p.s. I've visited the Algonquin Park visitor centre at least twice - the first time with my mother almost 2 decades ago, not long after it was built. Yes, it is evocative, & the second visit was with my friend, Sylvia, after a PurdyFest. Years ago we decided to hike the Centennial Ridges Trail in Algonquin on Halloween ... we misjudged our hiking speed, & it soon got dark, then it started to snow - we were hopelessly lost until my dog, LaToya, found the trail & guided us out to safety. Halloween howling wolves & wandering bushrat ghosts narrowly avoided.

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Saturday, 1 February 2014

Old Orchard - James Deahl






Old Orchard



         Purdy Country Literary Festival





The water mill’s been gone

three generations, perhaps longer,

but the Moira contains its music.

Frogs have taken over the old pond;

Joe-Pye-weed lines the river’s banks.

The reading over, the poets disperse —

some to the forest, others walk upstream

in search of the beaver dam.



A few apples ripen on the boughs

of an abandoned orchard

despite the late spring, the cool summer.

Mahler could have understood

such isolation while nurturing

his bittersweet 9th Symphony,

a work he would never live to hear,

his health failing, his wife unfaithful.



Mahler finally died never knowing

the great acclaim that was to come.

No one will pick these apples.

They will remain long into November.

If the Moira holds the mill’s song,

truly the silent branches of these

enduring trees embody all the grace

of the extended adagio that closes his 9th.






       James Deahl


         Set in ZenRiver Gardens (Moira River)




Saturday, 25 January 2014

Big Al On Point: Chris Faiers


Big Al On Point

for Patrick Connors


Barrow by barrow load
Big Al built his special point on Roblin Lake
waterfront sells by the foot
& tho Al & Eurithe wished for a secluded spot
a small space for coffee meditations, well ...
poets can handcraft more than wordy magic

Always resilient (and poor)
this was before fame
Al lugged his barrow loads for weeks & months
planted some soft maples and a few firs
sat back & drank - composed - relaxed
and let Nature do her work for a few decades

Years on I finally found his reclusive retreat
...  found Al's grave marker first
made many treks from Marmora to A-burg
to honour Al & his best bud, Milt
But it was years before I finally found
the magic landscape of Al & Eurithe's hand hewn refuge

on the work day last summer
prepping for the inaugural A-frame Open House
I gave myself the pleasant task
of gardening Big Al's special point

on the way in for my restorative chore
I wandered the dirt road for a place to pee
for my little dog Chase & me
and I met a neighbour woman with her young in tow

I asked if she had ever met Al Purdy
as her family cottage is but three doors away
& she replied that Al was almost a recluse
so shy that when she was a teen
eager to see the now famous poet's abode
she and a boyfriend (husband now)
paddled slowly towards Al's point

in the shade of his fully grown arbor
Big Al himself sat in a deck chair
reading perhaps, or composing deathless lines

the People's Poet looked up
saw the canoe of teens approaching
abruptly turned his chair away
back towards the A-frame
and his meditations



Chris Faiers



postscript:

in the shallows
blue heron awaits
his old friend



Marmora, Ontario
Jan. 25, 2014

inspired by A-frame email from Patrick Connors


published in Umbrella (Quinte Arts Council magazine) September/October/November
issue 2014, p. 29

published in Crossing Borders, Bruce Kauffman, editor, Hidden Brook Press, 2015, p. 29 




         

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This is a lovely image Chris...the bombastic drunken poet hiding in plain sight on his point of land in Roblin Lake.
Have you been following all the buzz generated from last Monday at the Monarch? Descant interview? etc.
Advance notice - August 30 - we have another event at the Active Arts church in Rednersville. More complete news as soon as I hear back from our Writer in Residence. And the Picnic's scheduled (did I tell you that already?) for July 26.
Exciting times...I can't keep up to it on the blog (which I am sure has an international following hungry for news of Al, she said, sarcastically)
I have been hiding on my own point of land, scribbling an architectural essay for a local magazine.
Is Chase keeping his head above the snow?
Are you?
hugs, Lindi

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On 2014-09-12, at 11:52 AM, James Deahl wrote:


September 12, 2014
Dear Chris,

         Thank you for sending the new UMBRELLA. I enjoyed your poem as well as Patrick's review of PurdyFest.

Poetry Power!
         . . . James


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Monday, 20 January 2014

Ray Souster Tribute Launch - Patrick Connors


Under the Mulberry Tree


New Book and Launch event Honour Raymond Souster
Patrick Connors – Toronto:  On Wednesday, January 15th, 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 20th 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

Thursday, 16 January 2014

Signing up for Marvin's Archives

Hi Marvin,
I wasn't able to retrieve my Sube from the mechanic until 5:30 yesterday aft, so as expected, I wasn't able to drive into TO for the launch. I did have an hour long update chat with Terry Barker this afternoon, & Terry succeeded in circulating both of the author's copies I'd requested from the editor, James Deahl. Twice over the course of the evening James kindly announced that these 2 archival copies of UNDER THE MULBERRY TREE were being circulated, with one copy designated for the special Marvin Orbach archives.

Terry said approx. 50 people were in attendance, & that likely all of the 12 - 14 readers signed both copies by their poems. As suggested, Terry also encouraged EVERYONE present to sign the copies as well - even the surprised young bartender was pleased to be asked  :  )  The usual suspects who attend many of our People's Poetry events like PurdyFests were present, & of course signed, & some even added spontaneous marginalia & commentary. It'll be very interesting to read these copies. I'll select the most 'marked up' copy & send it on to you as soon as I receive them from James. Many thanks to Terry, who spent much of his evening circulating our copies among the readers & guests alike.

Some of the signee readers are also regular 'PurdyFesters', like Kent Bowman, Mick Burrs, Terry Barker, James Deahl, Allan Briesmaster (Quattro editor for the book) & his artist wife Holly & poet daughter Clara,  Anna Yin & activist poet Patrick Connors. Other PF regulars who aren't in the antho, but who also attended & signed include David Day, Honey Novick, Joe Fiorito (Toronto Star columnist & his wife), PF videographer Henry Martinuk, PF photog Peter Rowe & wife Carol. Other reader/signees include Quattro publisher Luciano Iacobelli, Laurence Hutchman & Sarnia poets Lynn Tait & Debbie Oakum & Margaret Patricia Eaton (yup, THAT clan - flew in from Down East) etc. etc. - quite the gang!

Terry also met a Univ. of Calgary student, David Eso. Prior to the event David wasn't aware of your collection, but now he'll be scouring it (he's one of the contributors to MULBERRY TREE). 

peace & poetry power!
Chris ... & Chase Wrfffffffffffffffffffff!

Last night while surfing the web I found this page about your archives:   


Special Collections
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Manuscript Collections » Literary and Art Archives (Canadian) » Marvin Orbach
Marvin Orbach

ORBACH, MARVIN, 1940-

Marvin Orbach collection of archival material relating to
The Marvin Orbach Collection of Contemporary Canadian Poetry.
1961-2013.
0.94 m of textual records.

Canadian librarian and book collector Marvin Orbach was born in Toronto on June 13, 1940, and moved to Montreal in 1951 where he has lived ever since. He received his B.A. and two library science degrees from McGill University. He worked at Concordia University Library,  first as a cataloguer, and then as a reference / selection librarian, for a total of 39 years. Now retired, he devotes much of his time to building his collection of Canadian poetry: his love of Canada, his love of books, his love of poetry, and his collector's instinct, all combined to make him a passionate lifelong collector of Canadian poetry. Mr. Orbach's dream is to create a collection that reflects the poetic soul of a nation.
 

Fonds consists of archival material included as inserts or sent along with the books donated by M. Orbach. Includes: manuscripts and published poems by, and correspondence with, Rienzi Crusz; correspondence (including email) with and poems by many other Canadian poets such as Henri Beissel, Anne Cimon, Chris Faiers, Ralph Gustavson, David Helwig, Susan Ioannou, Irving Layton, Seymour Mayne and Sharon H. Nelson; interviews by M. Orbach with Sharon H. Nelson and Artie Gold; broadsides by Mavis Jones, John Newlove, Jay Rugesky, Fred Wah and Dale Zieroth; publishers' press releases; reading notices; bookmarks and book wraps; poem cards; and miscellaneous items removed from books.
Donated by Marvin Orbach between 2002 and 2013.
Text in English.
No restrictions on access.
Further accruals expected.
MsC 365

 

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Jan. 17, 2014

Hi Chris,
     Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you have done   to make Calgary's copy of the Souster book a real treasure.   And thank you very much to your colleagues who assisted you.  This book will be an outstanding addition to the collection.  I am looking forward to holding it in my hands and reading the inscriptions..   Wow!!!
       The piece that you sent on my archival collection has been around for a while.  A few months  ago I requested that your name be added to it. The Univ. of  Calgary Library, Special Collections,  has been doing a marvelous job of looking after the collection.
        A big thank-you for doing so much to help preserve  our  country's literary heritage.
        It was my lucky day   when I first met you.
        Marvin, in Montreal West.

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Tuesday, 14 January 2014

Memories of My Mom (Gail Taylor)


Memories of My Mom


Marvelous Mavis... what was in that name?
Dad would call her Alma or that woman
when he was impatiently waiting for her
Her brother, Jeff, nicknamed her Tamer
for all her feistiness and determination
She was Aunt Mavis to many,
great grandma to six
She has been Mom to five,
grandma to four 
and she has been called a blessing
by the countless children in the hospital
who wear her hats and slippers
or play with her crocheted animals
She was called a radical by the Weed Man
or maybe something worse
She was called friend by her neighbours
and Miss Daisy by the cab drivers
with whom she has long conversations
but most of all she was called Love
                    by all those whose lives she has touched.

Mom died Sunday night.

--

Gail Taylor


       

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Ursula Pflug has left a new comment on your post "Memories of My Mom (Gail Taylor)":

Blessings, Chris.



Posted by Ursula Pflug to Riffs & Ripples from ZenRiver Gardens at 14 January 2014 20:28