To be honest, I was having a rather difficult time reading this book before lecture last week and Babstock's reading a couple of days ago. I had never before encountered poetry like this and was struggling to understand meaning through it. I am accustomed to trying to relate poetry and writing to my own life, but I just could not find emotional connections in Babstock's words.
I was relieved to discover in lecture, however, that Leslie agreed that it is often difficult to understand what Babstock's theme or intention is with his poetry. She mentioned, for example, that the poem "Airstream Land Yacht" is actually more focused in sounds and metaphors, rather than relaying an actual message or emotion. Even she found it hard to distinguish what his main point is. It seems as though Babstock's poetry acts as a twisted map through the convoluted thoughts of the poet's mind.
However, Leslie also mentioned that "Stencil Artist" is a more approachable poem with a more traditional theme of love and relationships. As these are themes that I am more accustomed to and interested in reading about, I decided to give the poem another try. I found his narrative about a relationship with a graffiti artist easier to understand after Leslie gave us more background information and eventually discovered the beauty in the poem. I delighted in the imagery of "rail bridges, back lanes, blue dust of building/sites - with the NSCAD dropout (b.68, Khanesetake)/who worked at night with stencils and spray/paint, enlivening the poured forms of capitol/with red and black silhouettes of ordinary people" (23) that could be describing rebellion in almost any Canadian city. And once Babstock references his relationship with the artist he has been describing and discusses how she removed him from her life, I could appreciate how he compares the way she approaches her art work with the way she treated their relationship: "Steady brown knife,/she cut me-expertly-out of her life; the life/I see now I'd been filling in" (23). It is a beautiful comparison that allowed me to finally appreciate the emotion Babstock was putting into his work, even though I didn't see it immediately.
I have learned from reading this book that although I may struggle with it, I shouldn't give up on poetry because it may take a few reads to find lasting beauty and meaning within the words.
The latest book that we had to read for class is Natasha and Other Stories by David Bezmozgis. It seems as though I have gotten my wish and we are reading another collection of short stories from a Canadian author. It is also another book in the course that focuses on the story of the Canadian immigrant. Similar to Barnacle Love, it focuses on one family, but it is different because only one character narrates the connected stories in Natasha. In lecture, Gail mentioned that the book is actually autobiographical fiction and that a lot of it is based on Bezmozgis' upbringing, but that he is more interested in writing the fiction aspects. I was interested in the idea that, like all of the other writers we have read to this point, Bezmozgis uses what he knows to communicate slightly altered stories about his life to his reader. But unlike the others, he is more open to admitting how much and which parts of the stories are inspired by his own life. For example, I was surprised to learn from Gail that Bezmozgis has admitted that the story "Natasha" is taken almost directly from his life, except for the fact that he does not have an uncle, because it is so personal and graphic. For most people, telling a story about an intimate relationship they had with a family member in their youth would be a taboo subject. This revelation has encouraged me to think of my own life as a series of short stories. Writing does not have to be about doing incredible amounts of research and telling a story about a stranger, but can be inspired by my own life, told with a twist.
I also was interested in the story "Roman Berman, Massage Therapist". Reading about Mark's father Roman and his struggle to transfer the skills he had acquired in his home country of Latvia, which is a obstacle that many immigrants face when they come to Canada. My own mother, a trained secretary, had to find work in a factory because of her limited knowledge of English and her inability to use a computer. Unlike my own parents, however, Roman does succeed in starting his own Massage Therapy clinic, despite the initial challenges he faces. He works hard to pass the required exams and uses his connection to his community to benefit his business. This also reminded me of my father and how he has had to take English classes and other courses to attain a second career after the factory he worked in closed and moved to Mexico. Like Roman, he was determined to do well in his classes and applied an optimistic hope to an otherwise unfortunate situation. I felt that this story, out of all of them, truly commented on the persevering spirit of many Canadian immigrants. Although my parents did not have the same opportunities to develop their English or other skills to go as far as to have their own business, they have worked hard to raise my sister and I with the idea that anything is possible in this country, as long as we work hard, are determined, and never lose hope.
The picture I am including below is one that "Roman Berman, Massage Therapist" reminded me of. It is of my sister, my father, and I about two years after we came to Canada, in our first apartment in Kitchener. Like the story of "Rose" in the Chinese Knot, this picture reminds me of the great relationship I have with my parents and the promising life that they worked so hard to give my sister and I.
I'm starting to think that writing about the collections of short stories focused on immigrant Canadians might be a good idea for my Critical Commentary at the end of the year...
I really enjoyed reading Lien Chao's The Chinese Knot. During her reading yesterday, she mentioned that she focused on immigration and emigration because it demonstrates an exciting process of change and struggle or a loss and gain. This reminded me of De Sa's stories in Barnacle Love and the similar ideas that I am focusing on in my first Letter Assignment. Just as his stories revolved around a family's adjustment to living a new life in Canada from the perspective of two males at different points in their lives, The Chinese Knot tells a similar story but through the eyes of very different single female narrators. This is again an interesting theme to me because I am also a female immigrant living in Canada. Although I have lived here for the majority of my life, I am still an amalgamation of both cultures and my parents' decision to immigrate here was both a loss and a gain, as Chao discussed.
Two of my favourite stories in The Chinese Knot were "Under the Monkey Bars" and Rose.
In "Under the Monkey Bars," Wei Ming is an elderly woman who confronts racism. This story reminded me of Julia in The Other Sister, who is also opinionated, outspoken, and independent, despite what people may expect from her because of her age.
After reading "Rose," I felt a deep sadness. I was bewildered by the story and how a daughter could be able to reject her own mother. Although my mother and I do not always agree on certain issues, I have a close relationship with her, love her, and know that I can always rely on her. I know that the situation told in the short story was different from my own upbringing and that I am not a product of divorce and have never spent time away from my mother, but I cannot imagine not wanting to have a relationship with her. Chao writes with such honesty and frailty that I really felt sympathetic towards the character of Rose. I just imagined how my mom would feel if I did not want to talk to her on a daily basis like I do now and my heart sank. Reading "Rose" made me further appreciate the relationship I have with my mom and made me want to make sure she knows how much I am grateful for her role and constant presence in my life. Although I felt most emotional when I read "Rose", all of Chao's characters are easy to identify with and are recognizable, which must be because they were inspired by real women that the author encountered in her own life. I was able to easily feel sympathy or happiness for her female protagonists, depending on the tone of the story.
Another character that was familiar to me was the city of Toronto. Chao mentioned that it acted not only as a setting, but as another character in her stories. Its streets, parks, and neighbourhoods all shaped and framed her connected narratives. This made her work identifiably Canadian and helped me to relate to the stories, as many of the landmarks she mentioned were familiar to me.
So far this course has already changed my perception of Canadian literature. I previously thought that it was mostly written by Caucasian Canadians and did not tell the stories of the many immigrants that make this multicultural country so diverse. But by reading De Sa and Chao, I know that I have much more to learn about what Canadian literature can be. The rest of the books in the course look to be just as diverse and I know that I will be just as interested in learning about their stories. I also have gained a new opinion of short stories. Previous to this course, I had never been very interested in reading collections of short stories. But after reading Barnacle Love and The Chinese Knot, the format is actually one of my new favourites. It allows for episodic takes on the characters' lives, while still allowing the reader to be emotionally invested in the material. Although I originally read Barnacle Love as a novel, reading it as a collection instead, allowed me to let go of the parts I missed (such as Manuel and Georgina's first years in Canada) and concentrate on why the episodes that De Sa did choose to write about were so important to the narrative and the development of the characters. This is different to Chao, who writes about many different characters. For her book, choosing to write short stories, allowed her to examine the lives of many female characters, without having to intertwine their stories, as she would have been forced to had she written a novel. I look forward to reading the other collections of short stories in the course, and Natasha and Other Storiesand Shopping for Sabzi.
"You don't have to write what you know, just something you feel deeply"
Tonight was Lola Lemire Tostevin's reading of her beautiful novel, The Other Sister. I thought I would take the time to not only reflect on the book, but also reflect on the many ideas that she presented about her book and writing in her soft-spoken manner.
In reference to the quote above, Tostevin discussed the part in her novel about Dr. Mengele and his experiments on Jewish twins during WW2. Although it was not a topic that she has personal experience with, she said she used her imagination and research to be able to write about it. She used her personal connection (her grandchildren are Jewish) to drive her emotion and need to tell this particularly aspect of her story. I also find that writing about something that I care about or feel a deep emotional connection to, makes it easier to communicate.
(On a related note, someone on our listserv discussion named jsweete1 actually found a feature on the Discovery channel about Dr. Mengele that I also thought was interesting. Here is the link: http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/series/explorer/4087/Overview?source=link_tw_02#tab-Overview)
She also said that she has used writing throughout her life to be able to cope with her problems. Similarly, I have kept a spiral bound book of random ideas since I was in grade one or two. Although I am not used to writing extensive entries, writing even short sequences of words has always been an outlet for my thoughts and feelings. I am looking forward to continuing in this course to discover more about other writers' thoughts on writing and how their perspectives can influence how I observe my own writing. To that effect, writing this blog has made me feel a connection to the character of Julia and how she writes her own thoughts, ideas, and memories on her laptop computer. This is one of the aspects that I liked about her book. The fact that I could find qualities in Julia, an aging woman, that I could relate to said something about the quality of Tostevin's writing. Tostevin herself shared in class that she started writing during her time at the convent. Like her, I often write and reflect best when I am alone and in quiet.
I look forward to growing accustom to writing habitually through this blog and perhaps learning more about my relationship to writing and to Canadian literature in the process.
Unfortunately I still have not been able to buy Jan Zwicky's collection of poetry Thirty-Seven Small Songs and Thirteen Silences because it is not available at the book store and I am unable to order it from the website they told us about in class. It is too bad because I was really looking forward to reading her book, as her reading in class was so interesting and original. Her views on poetry, art, beauty, music, and philosophy were really inspiring. I have, however, been able to read some excerpts from her poems online. Chris Cornish, our TA, actually featured the following in his contribution to YFile:
What are you thinking, little violin? What do your clear strings dream? Brown rivers have gold depths. The sprightly softness in the current of the bow.
What are you singing, my little violin? Who are you calling now? Truths the trees, my parents, taught me. The sky above your childhood home.
from “Small Song” by Jan Zwicky
Simply from reading that small excerpt I know that I would really enjoy her poetry, as it is fluid and full of compelling imagery. In just two short stanzas, her diction transports me to another dreamy, softly lit world that makes me look forward to spring...even though it is only October and we still have a full winter ahead. Sigh. Hopefully I will be able to purchase Jan Zwicky's book before the year is up, but for now I will just have to settle for what I can find online. One of those finds is the YouTube link I am adding below.
Although I do not completely understand the ideas she is presenting in this talk, I can certainly understand that Zwicky has a very interesting take on poetry and philosophy and is contributing many new ideas to Canada's art and poetry scene.
The first two books that we have been assigned to read are Barnacle Love by Anthony de Sa and Thirty Seven Small Songs and Thirteen Silences by Jan Zwicky. I am about two-thirds into Barnacle Love and I am really absorbed in the narrative of Manuel and his son Antonio. I started reading it first over the book of poetry by Zwicky because I haven't even been able to purchase her book yet. I do not know why it is not available at the bookstore, but every time I check they tell me to come back another time. Hopefully the professors let us know how we can get our hands on the book in our class tomorrow night.
So far, I am really enjoying reading De Sa's story about a family's immigrant experience in Canada. The story of Manuel and his journey from the Azores islands of Portugal to Canada and the experiences he has along the way is really poignant for me because of my own family's experience with immigration.
My parents, sister and I moved to Canada when I was one year old. It was 1991 and El Salvador had been destroyed in the 1980s by a violent civil war. My mother's sister (Tia to me) had already established a life in my home town of Kitchener so that made it so much easier to make the decision to leave El Salvador and move to Canada in search of a better life. Since I was only a baby at the time, I of course do not remember this important time that changed my future forever. However, I almost feel like I do have my own vivid memories, just from years of listening to my parent's stories and memories. Reading the first half of the book where Manuel is the protagonist reminded me of the struggles that my parents also experienced in moving halfway across the world. They too had to leave their families and everything they had grown accustomed to. But their story is different to Manuel's because their reasons for moving were not selfish. As my sister and I were still young children, we still had the chance to live safer, more prosperous lives. And so they moved for us. Reading De Sa's beautiful book has reminded me how much my parents sacrificed for our futures and has inspired me to keep trying to make them proud and take advantage of every opportunity I am given.
Thank you Anthony de Sa for writing such a stirring novel.
Below I have included a poem that I once wrote on my thoughts of immigration in the style of Sylvia Plath's "Daddy" that I think relates with the themes of immigration in De Sa's novel and how the dreams it promises are not always fulfilled.
Sueños frustrados
I am not you, I am not you
Ya no, soy tu
Locked in your chains and handcuffs,
At home and when you came here,
Doing what was expected of you.
Freedom, I chase after you.
I run across borderlines
With one suitcase packed full of Hope
Expecting to find something else
From what I am used to.
Didn’t fly over ocean Atlantic
To land somewhere completely new,
But your feet are on foreign land and you’re a Spic
Fumbling over rosary beads, you
Pray to
Build una vida en este pais
Despite your idioma.
Your tongue, tongue, tongue
That doesn’t move the way you want it
To, does it?
The sun never shines as bright here,
Everything is duller, less clear.
In this place, you chase
What you envisioned before you
Actually arrived here.
It died in an explosion.
Tick, tick, tick, tick
The dream was too weak
To outlive majority views
And everything brand new.
Start running, start running
From what they expect of you
You’re not like them, you’re not who they are.
I may look a lot like you
Pero yo no soy tu.
The wind blows differently here than in El Salvador,
But this place is where I grew.
And despite my reluctance to accept it
I have grown to fit I have grown to fit
My shiny new white costume.
Maybe I am the one who
Has climbed too far up to see my roots
And the dirt they’re planted in.
We climbed into a plane that flew
Too high and far before I knew
My identity, my role.
Slowly, slowly I’ve learned the rules,
But as I learn them I want to break them.
I won’t follow, I won’t
Every example set by you.
It’s hard to tell what’s less natural:
To try to create someone new
Or act like a breathing stereotype
Of what’s expected of someone like me.
Brown immigrant girl who
Has been misplaced early in life,
Placed among strangers, people who
Have blank faces and forced smiles
That are fake, fake, fake, to you.
I am deceived like a fool.
And I am still lost in a maze
But no longer is everything new.
I have learned to see right through
Those who see not what is true,
But only a wetback leech in brown
They see colour and I see right through
Past skin, into, into
To their black black hearts, so untrue.
Inside, human feeling is askew.
The further you go into
These bodies their hatred seeps through.
Pero no dejes que el odio
Infecte your own sangre
Cause once it’s there it’s hard to forget.
Recuerde tu primer sueno.
Although you may run from who you are
And nowhere feels like it’s home to you
Laugh at fortune’s travel agency
And smile at where you live now
At least por ahora, it’s where you belong.
Yesterday was our first class in Canadian Writers in Person. As one of our assignments, I have to keep this journal as a place for ideas, reflections, questions, lists, terms, creative writing, visual art or insights – pretty much anything that allows me to reflect on the texts in the course. I decided to use the blog format instead of a traditional journal because it is more efficient for me to type to record my thoughts and feelings. This, I hope, will result in a more interesting and thorough log of my thoughts and feelings.
I am really looking forward to this course, meeting the scheduled writers and learning what Canadian literature means to me.
I am a sales associate at fashion forward retail company, Aritzia. This blog is a way for the staff to inspire each other with our own creativity and trailblazing style through photos from work and from the street.
To be honest, I was having a rather difficult time reading this book before lecture last week and Babstock's reading a couple of days ago. I had never before encountered poetry like this and was struggling to understand meaning through it. I am accustomed to trying to relate poetry and writing to my own life, but I just could not find emotional connections in Babstock's words.
