30 Days of Creativity

Have you heard about the 30 Days of Creativity project? I found it via twitter, like I find most things these days. It is run by @createstuff and the premise, according to their website, is:

30 Days of Creativity is a social initiative encouraging people to create stuff (anything) every day for 30 days in June.
Your brain is like a muscle. When you exercise it, it gets stronger.

This immediately appealed to me and I thought, why not join? It should inspire me to do some of the things I often think of doing.... then never get around to actually trying. As I've been pondering possible projects, I realized that I am fairly creative in my daily life already -- but, I value everyday creativity highly and try not to get locked into a grey routine, by consciously trying new activities especially around writing & books, as is probably the case for most of my readers ;)

(I've even written a journaling workbook about everyday creativity for my business, Four Rooms Creative Self Care).

I'll be sharing a bit about my activities this month so be prepared for some not-strictly-bookish posts to come...although many of my ideas do revolve around bookish themes, naturally.

What about you? Do you have a favourite form of creativity? What is it? (photography, painting, dollmaking, sewing, cooking, music, writing??) Are you thinking about joining in on the 30 Days of Creativity Project?

Boyce's Anderson

Anderson / Michael Boyce
Toronto: Pedlar Press, c2011
240 p.

The opening line of the publisher's blurb on this book is: "Anderson is a mystery novel inspired by film noir and gothic/supernatural pulp fiction novels." And that is a pretty good description, I think. I was first attracted to it by the lovely cover, and the final sentence on the back of the book: Why should Anderson feel lonely, when he's surrounded by the mysteries?

It's a strange tale. Perfect for Carl's R.I.P. challenge, I'd say. Anderson is a detective of the strange; he is surrounded by mystery and solves psychic cases in his spare time. By day he's a simple computer tech, but his job really is a big blank spot taking up his time but not his attention. Anderson hangs out at a bar known as The Belly, where each Sunday night there is an event known as Half Moon Aether Night. This is where the odd people who Anderson feels comfortable with all hang out, for the trance music and strange atmosphere. It is here that Anderson first comes across the Haunted Girl who is the inspiration for his newest case.

Does this sound strange? It should. Anderson seeks out The Strangeness. Anderson spends the rest of the book following and then having carnal relations with the Haunted Girl (who he finally discovers is named Elle) and meeting her two accomplices, The Magic Guy and the Monochromatic Suit Guy. And things get really weird when Anderson realizes that the ghost who is haunting Elle has been taking over his body without Anderson's recollection of the ensuing events. The showdown between Anderson and the ghost is the finale of the book and it gets really crazy at that point. However, as much as this is a supernatural tale and narratively a little off the wall, there is an internal logic that makes it feel well structured and the action (such as it is) is consistent with the story's set-up. Much of the book is Anderson's perspective on everything around him, and his musings on the meaning of all those people, places and occurrences.

It took me a little while to adjust to the story and to find my reading position, because of its original style. And I had a few minor quibbles: every now and again, a word choice discombobulated me, and there were a few typos which interrupted the flow somewhat. And something that sounds odd, but that was an issue for me was the font choice. It was an original font, unusual, and I found that I was looking at the font as much as reading the story. I had to re-adjust to it each time I picked up the book.

When I finally finished it though, I found I'd become fond of the characters (well, except for Elle). The Monochromatic Suit Guy was a great sidekick for Anderson. It was interesting reading, and a good mental exercise to get into such an unusual tale.

If you're in the mood for something really odd, and might enjoy the talky style, the philosophical asides and the constant present tense narration, give this one a try.

Michael Boyce is the author of two novels Monkey (Pedlar Press,2004) and Anderson (Pedlar Press, 2010). He is also a freelance print editor, a media producer, a video editor, a musician, a writer of articles and reviews, as well as a lover of art, pizza and very peaty single malt scotch. His previous novel, Monkey, was nominated for a ReLit Award.

(info via Toronto Quarterly interview)

Last Days of the Lacuna Cabal

The Last Days of the Lacuna Cabal / Sean Dixon
New York: Other Press, c2009.
296 p.

I read the American version of this, oddly enough; the original Canadian version is entitled The Girls who Saw Everything, published by Coach House Books. But, I loved it, no matter what title it is going by. (this cover is the copy I read, but you can take a look at all the various covers/editions at the book's blog)

The basic story (and it's hard to say basic as it is a wildly inventive, crazy book) is that there is a group of women in Montreal who've started the Lacuna Cabal Montreal Young Women's Book Club. They read and then enact the stories they're reading. As we begin this book, they've come to a bit of a crisis point: it's time to decide on their next read, which, unbeknownst to them, turns out to be their last.

Due to the insistence of member Runner Coghill (and her little brother Neil) they begin reading The Epic of Gilgamesh -- from the original Sumerian tablets, which are apparently a Coghill family treasure, ten clay tablets in cuneiform which Neil carts around in his backpack. There are obvious issues to re-enacting Gilgamesh, firstly that there are no boys in the book club. Though various circuitous occurrences, they enlist two 'boys', Dumuzi and Coby, and the action spirals from there.

The delightful nature of this book lies in its references to other books they've read (nearly all Canadian, nice touch) and to the tangled interpersonal relations of the Lacuna Cabal. It is made up of seven women and the gender-nonspecific Aline, a crossdresser who is considering gender reassignment surgery. The narrative structure is amusing; two of the members are self-consciously narrating the tale and noting that they know they can't know what others were thinking or doing when they weren't there, but they are going to fill in the blanks anyhow. It was entertaining and had a few points that are ripe for discussion in a real book club!

It's too difficult to summarize -- so just noting what I really enjoyed about it, I'd say the marvellous, evocative Montreal setting (great job on that) -- the personalities -- the off-the-wall action, especially as Neil stows away on a ship he thinks is headed to Owen Sound but ends up in the Persian Gulf (this is during the Iraqi war) -- the side characters, including the Baghdad Blogger and a Bahrain policeman --and finally, the fact that this book full of hip humour and literary cleverness also has an emotional heart.

Runner and Neil are the centre of the book; the Epic belongs to them, they spur the action. But they also inhabit the story in a deep way, as Runner's twin Ruby has recently died, and like the Sumerian goddess Inanna, Runner longs to join her sister in the underworld. Her journey, and by extension, Neil's journey to belonging in a wider world, engages the reader and provides a serious foundation for a story that may appear at first glance to be tossed off lightly.

After a bit of a slow start, I found my stride and then couldn't stop. I loved the second half of the book, especially, and found the unpredictable conclusion satisfying and a perfect finish. It was an adventure of a read.

Sean Dixon is a playwright, novelist and actor. His plays have been produced in Canada, the U.S., Australia and the U.K., and 3 have been collected in AWOL: Three Plays for Theatre SKAM. Sean’s first novel was The Girls Who Saw Everything (The Last Days of the Lacuna Cabal in the U.S. and the U.K.), named one of the Best Books of 2007 by Quill & Quire. He is the author of 2 books for young readers, The Feathered Cloak and The Winter Drey.

Warm the Children, O Sun

Warm the Children, O Sun / Olena Pchilka et al.; trans. by Roma Franko; ed. by Sonia Morris.
Saskatoon: Language Lanterns, c2000.
471 p.

This is the fifth volume in a unique series called "Women's Voices in Ukrainian Literature". It compiles short stories on the theme of childhood and adolescence by a varied group of Ukrainian writers, most of whom were writing in the years between the late 19th and early 20th century. (for bios on each of the writers, check the Language Lanterns site; they share a lot of great information there). The brief biographies of each of the writers are also included in the book.

It's a good book to follow my last read, as it focuses on women and girls' lives in mostly peasant families, in 19th century Ukraine. And it makes me very glad I don't live then. Their lives are unrelenting work...childcare, food growing and preparation, housekeeping, submitting to their (often drunken) husbands and so on. One story delves into the cultural expectation of early marriage and how these lovely young girls, so finely dressed, expect only marriage in their lives -- and then are utterly disillusioned and realize they were only really free before marriage but now it's too late and they keep encouraging other young girls and their own daughters to get married asap.

In one tale, a husband is considered a gentle man and a good catch because he only beats his wife once a month. In another, all the local girls mock another, who is a frail and indulged only child, because she can read. They are merciless in pointing out the ridiculous nature of that talent and how it will make her unfit for a good marriage. (fortunately she finds a husband who, when he discovers her talent, is amazed and happy, as he is himself illiterate -- it is the only 'good' marriage in the entire book).

The strength of one girl who is determined to become a dancer, in one story, highlights the way that most people stayed put, never leaving even their villages; she makes a shocking escape by faking her own death, and travels Europe as a famous performer. She is perfectly safe because the people of her childhood home are so isolated and insular they'd never know it. Just the narrator moves between worlds.

I love reading this series because of the continual surprises. My expectations are always being challenged and changed when I read these stories -- I think I know what their lives were like but reading contemporaneous accounts, though fictional, reveals things that were taken for granted by the society in which these tales were written. The class structure is quite startling, and to me reveals a lot about the reasons for the patterns of immigration to places like Canada.

Not all of the stories are at the same literary level; the series points out that they are translating these previously untranslated works for the social importance as much as the literary. All the contributing authors worked as writers, but some (like Olena Pchilka) have much more of a literary profile. Of all the books in this series that I've read so far, I found this one to be a tough go -- mainly because it is unrelenting on the limited options for girls in this time and place. The story about the reading girl (entitled "She's Literate!") touched a nerve; and the constant reminder through most of the stories that wives were generally considered necessary evils and shrewish, and beaten regularly, was quite dispiriting. The whole book tied the theme of poverty and misery together rather effectively, however, and is certainly an important collection. I am once again impressed and grateful to Language Lanterns for undertaking this translation project on.

All That is Bitter & Sweet

All that is Bitter & Sweet / Ashley Judd; with Maryanne Vollers.
New York: Ballantine, c2011.
406 p.

I'm not usually a huge fan of the 'celebrity memoir'. I find them indulgent and usually pretty poorly written. But, this one came across my desk at work and I was intrigued. It is something more that a simple 'how I became famous' memoir.

Ashley Judd reveals her damaging childhood in this book; sometimes a bit too much personal information for my liking, as it made for uncomfortable reading. But then we get to the heart of her story: her activist work for Population Services International, and it gets WAY more uncomfortable. She goes to India, Thailand, Africa (Rwanda &Congo) and in each place looks at the conditions of women who suffer rape, violence, AIDS, uncontrollable pregnancies and more.

The book is a blend of her own life experience and her activism. She details candidly how she is dealing with her life trauma, through intensive therapy and growing self-knowledge, and how she got involved as an advocate for women worldwide. She draws a clear line between the two, showing how her own life has inspired her to get involved with these causes. The writing itself is sometimes weak; she isn't creating literature with an eye on style. But the places she goes and the things she sees and experiences are riveting. She provides plenty of notes and things to look up later if you want to get involved once you've read the book (and you will). The foreword is by Nick Kristof, and their dual concern for women and girls worldwide infuses the entire book.

It gives us a picture of her life: how she interacts with her family currently and has been able to mend relationships through hard work; her own marriage to racecar driver Dario Franchitti; the friends she's made through her advocacy; and the yearlong intensive degree she studied for at Harvard. It makes for a celebrity memoir that is full of solid content. She's a woman with many facets and this was an honest, heartbreaking book.

Small Memories

Small Memories / José Saramago; translated from the Portuguese by Margaret Jull Costa.
Boston: Houghton Mifflin, c2011.
157 p.

This is a brief, posthumous autobiographical work by one of my favourite authors, José Saramago. (Posthumous in English, anyhow: it was first published in Portuguese in 2006). It details his youth in Portugal, noting especially his family connections and his experience of the natural world. But, as Teresa said in her own review at her blog Shelf Love, this book is really about memory itself.

Saramago tells us stories that he assumes we've probably already heard (like the one about how he got his last name); he returns to things he's told us in the first few pages and corrects himself later in the book; he talks about the way in which his memories don't always match up with others'; he points out that sometimes we can't remember things that seem important but a moment looking at the moon forty years ago will come back us as clear as if it had just happened.

As usual with his work, it is meandering, gently humourous, yet with that ineffable grasp of human motivation and desire. It's an unusual memoir, in that it isn't a straightforward story of a life, but it is very, very Saramago. It is less a chronological report of a life than an illumination of childhood hurts, pleasures, images, or simply of moments that still recur in his memories -- which may seem apparent from the title of the book! It is told from the viewpoint of the child he was, with no later understandings or interpretations put on to his experiences -- for example, there are no adult asides explaining the political situation or the family structure in full. It is a lovely read, with much to enjoy and think about. There is also a series of family photos at the end of the book, showing him at various stages of his youth with, of course, amusing captions. His parents' photos are revealing as well, showing the family lineage in his own face.

I enjoyed this very much; I'm already a big Saramago fan, and reading this felt like sitting listening to him talk -- correcting himself, hauling out the family albums, having a good laugh at himself and the unreliability of memory. It gave me a pang reading this knowing that he is no longer with us, but this book is a wonderful legacy that complements his fiction perfectly.

The Forest Horses

The Forest Horses / Byrna Barclay
Regina: Coteau, c2010.
368 p.

This is an extraordinary book. I really loved it. It's from one of my favourite small publishers, who always create beautiful books: look at the cover...it is a wonderful double design and I feel it really says a lot about the book itself... the character is Russia, and Russia is the character.

This is the story of Signe, a middle aged woman dealing with a family tragedy who decides to travel back to Russia to search out her family roots. Her parents and aunt came from Russia to Canada when she was a very young child, and despite her fears of water she is going on a river cruise starting in St Petersburg and stopping at the island she grew up on.

Her parents, Pytor and Lena, meet in a very unusual way: Pytor kidnaps Lena rather accidentally when he steals a herd of Gotland ponies from Northern Sweden to sell back in Russia (Lena's father owns the herd and she is tending it at the time). After facing down the challenges of anger, distress and the lack of a common language, they end up becoming lovers and then spouses. It sounds strange, but is wonderfully told and makes sense in the story. Pytor is an adventurer and inadvertently kidnapped Lena, and his brash charm seems to win her over. Lena herself is quite practical, and makes the best of things both for herself and for her beloved herd of ponies.

Peter takes Lena back to Russia, right in time for the Siege of Leningrad. Being the hustler that he is, he gets the two of them, and his sister, out of the city and they make a place for themselves on a distant island, along with their ponies. But as the city slowly starves, he realizes their tiny, strong ponies can travel the ice road back to the city, laden with food.

Meanwhile, we also hear the tale of Signe's children (one deceased, one irretrievably brain-damaged), as well as the story of Lena's own Swedish mother. Signe is travelling the river, facing down her fears of water and of the past, while befriending the Russian ornithologist and tour guide working for the cruise. Her story floats on the outlines of her parents', which is by far the strongest element. The heart of the book is Peter and Lena, and the ponies. And it is wonderful. The landscape, the relationships, the privations of war, the struggle to survive, all of this comes through in a vibrant narrative.

The story weaves all these elements together and reveals a picture of family through the generations, taking us from Sweden to Russia to a Canadian homestead in Livelong, Saskatchewan. It has a rich folktale-like atmosphere at times, and was utterly absorbing. I really loved the Russian and Swedish bits, and found Signe's own story only slightly less fascinating. A great read, especially if you like historical fiction or family sagas. Or horses! Recommended.