It’s getting to be indoor/dark early season here so it seemed like a good time to revive the Shelf Tour series. As I’ve written before I’m not very arty in the summer but I’m back at it now that it’s fall, looking for crafts to do. This book I got at the 17th ave Fair’s Fair before they closed is one I’ll pick up now and then because I think “oooo making fancy books how cool” but nooooo. This isn’t a book for the casual crafter such as myself who wants to make a couple neat little chapbooks. This is the real deal, for those who want to make hardcover cloth or leather-bound books and it is hardcore. I suppose I might use it one day but I really doubt it… I’m much more dilettantish when it comes to book production. It feels cool to have this though… it’s neat to read about how it’s done even if I’m never going to do it myself.
Reading
Shelf Tour #9: A Field Trip with I Know Something You Don’t Know /
Today was quite out of the ordinary—I went. To a place! The mechanic (shout out to Economy Auto). To maintain social distance I waited outside at the picnic bench behind the Mr. Lube while the car was being worked on. And just as I got to go on a big outdoor adventure so too did one of my books, and so I read Amy LeBlanc’s wonderful “I know something you don’t know.” Again these aren’t meant to be book reviews but I’m gonna gush about this one anyway.
I really love death metal and feminist witches and creepy Victorian things and corsets and stuff, but I’m also squeamish and don’t like gore, and this book really perfectly matches my interests which are hard to hit. Most stuff that is creepy is too gross for me but this book is absolutely perfect for me when it comes to that balance. It reminded me, just a little bit, of movies like Practical Magic, Stigmata, and the show Charmed—a great blend of contemporary, mystical, feminist, and historical vibes that is just the best (ok I don’t know how any of these would hold up to my sense of what feminism is nowadays or even my taste but I just like grrl power witches is what I’m saying if you get me). The tone and directness of IKSYDY reminds me a bit of Atwood’s The Journals of Suzanna Moodie but less bitter and harsh.
LeBlanc’s writing is absolutely seamless—effortless and evocative, in a way that uses deceptively straightforward phrasing to deliver strange and beautiful images and build an irresistible immersive mood and world to sink into. I read it in less than an hour and know I’ll be reading it repeatedly in years to come, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. The back of the book actually describes it quite nicely—more so than whatever I’m writing about here (eggs and Mr. Lube and Charmed?)—I’m posting a photo of that below.
This is the first Gordon Hill press book I’ve owned I believe, and it’s nice. Nice paper, nice design, lovely cover. Is “hand-feel” a thing? Like mouth-feel? If so I’d say this book had good hand-feel. One more reason to make it a permanent fixture on the shelf.
Ok I can’t help but make a joke. There’s a bit in the book where someone contemplates whether an egg should be boiled for eight minutes or ten. This is the only thing wrong with this book. The answer is neither! An egg should be boiled for six minutes for the yolk the way I like it :P I only just figured this out! I’m very excited about boiling eggs in 1” of water for six minutes right now. I have had many delicious eggs lately.
Anyway, here’s some photos of me and the book’s field trip.
Shelf Tour #8: Lace! /
Today is my birthday and it’s almost Mother’s Day, so this is already a celebratory time, but during non-pandemic times another very significant event occurs around now—the CBC Booksale. I feel like annual events are very popular in Calgary… Seedy Saturday, the bike sale, and this book sale. I just felt a real pang thinking about how it’s been cancelled this year. It’s an amazing event where you get to paw your way through a seemingly endless mound of books in a curling rink, often while listening to local bands play, the books are very reasonably priced, and all the proceeds go to charity. Definitely one of the cancelled things I am missing this year.
So anyway, this book is from the CBC book sale, as many of my books are. I suspect my mom grabbed this one out of the pile for me, though I’m not 100% sure. Side note—when I started these blog posts I assumed I knew the provenance of each and every one of my books but my memory is murkier in some cases than I thought. Hmm. Anyway… my mom would have known I’d love this because when I was little we went to Heritage Park, and in the upstairs room of the Wainwright Hotel there was someone making lace. I just thought it was the coolest thing and still do. Aside from the magical quality of making, the tools themselves are so beautiful and ornate and medieval looking—the pillow and the fancy bobbins and the delicate threads. This book actually doesn’t show how to make pillow/bobbin lace, but it does show a number of other methods, all of which look horrifyingly difficult to me. I can crochet and weave but reading patterns of either is something I find scary… I just look at the pages and go “Ah! No! I just wanted to do something by feel while watching TV!” So anyway… this book contains both frightening patterns and a history of lace beginning with Ancient Egypt. It’s in black and white but nevertheless the photos are quite beautiful, and the paper and single ink of the book are very harmonious and enticing. Going over this book today did make me interested in bobbin lace again. I’m still on my “No new art supplies!” resolution, but I wonder if I might either use something from around the house or maybe make a birthday exception and order a kit if safe to do so. Hmm… I do have a handful of wooden dowels in my art bin that I might be able to repurpose…
But I digress again. Here are some photos of the book itself. I keep it not because I’m definitely going to make lace using it’s instructions, but because it makes me think of multiple nice times in my life and time spent with my mom. Hoping it will be safe sooner rather than later for us once again to share our old books with each other and congregate around them. Maybe by the time that happens I’ll be making lace bookmarks (or maybe not… ha!). Happy birthday to me.
Shelf tour #7: My Ariel /
So I’ve been going awfully slow with this posting thing because in staring at all the unread books they’ve been drawing me into actually reading them. That’s the case with My Ariel by Sina Queyras.
My Ariel really jumps out on the shelf because it’s thick and has eye catching type. I bought this right when it was released but haven’t been able to read it until now. I respect Queyras as a person more than I can say, and they are one of my favourite writers. Each of their books is magnificent, and though widely varied in subject matter each is wrenching and transformative in its own way. I knew reading this book would be an intense experience and one I somehow didn’t feel ready for until this weekend. I wasn’t feeling well Saturday and spent most of the day resting, and it was just right—the right moment for me to begin. And my word, this book. It’s so good. I’m only a third through so I should probably finish it before I go on and on about it but it’s incredible. As eviscerating as I expected and with a twist, as Queyras writes in a slightly different style with a clarity so true and loud it leaves your ears ringing. I love Sylvia Plath’s poetry but I’m not terribly knowledgeable about her—I’ve watched the movie and we discussed her bio a bit in one or two classes I took—but I never researched her or read her letters or anything (nor could I get into the Bell Jar). If you’re afraid you need to be a Plath scholar to get into this book I’d say definitely not—like OO by Spinosa it’s might inspire one to read the referenced works but it doesn’t exclude readers who haven’t.
I might write more about My Ariel when I’ve finished it, but I’m so glad it was finally my moment to read this book. It’s stunning.
Ooh my heart: “OO: Typewriter Poems” by Dani Spinosa /
I usually only ever feel like writing about books I really love, and I usually don’t end up doing so because I mull it over for so long I lose the thread. So here are some quick thoughts and immediate reactions to Dani Spinosa’s beautiful “OO: Typewriter Poems.” Mainly, on how much it makes me want to go make stuff.
First—labour. You can see and feel the work in these poems. The physical presence of the poet—in the typing, and to a lesser extent, in rendering the work in electronic format to make a book. It gives the book a striking and intimate immediacy. The poems where layers of typing obscure words are especially poignant—like I could feel the process of the author writing and erasing through writing and how much thought and emotion might go into such an act. This tactile thoughtful beauty makes me want to go write asap.
Next—when I’m really excited about a book I can barely focus on it. My mind starts spinning off at full speed thinking about what it means and also what art I want to make inspired by it. That’s what I felt here and I feel so gratified by the conversation between Dani Spinosa and Kate Siklosi at the end in which this idea—of inspiration and in being in conversation with other authors—is so elevated. That this reaction is not a matter of being distractible, but a way of engaging.
I love, too, the discussion of the gendered elements of that dynamic. This too is also personally so gratifying for me given that I have an interest in writing through/back at male (and sometimes misogynistic) writers through history whose work has inspired me. I’ve been thinking lately of doing more poems like Other Observations and keep wondering if anyone would care for such a book, but here I find this impulse shown to be not a personal compulsion but rather a broader interest shared with other writers. That’s pretty cool.
What’s especially interesting too is that a book like this could easily be cruel, condescending, or dismissive. But the author interacts with others in a way that is critical but not mean-spirited. It’s thoughtful and a pleasure to experience.
I also love the emphasis in the afterword conversation that the author places on not caring about making perfect things or what others think. This idea is the reason I keep this blog. There is so much pressure—whether from other writers or from the impulse to professionalize or from Instagram—to only create and share perfect things and that for me absolutely obliterates creativity. More mess, more attempts, more works in progress, more everything please.
Also from the afterword—femmeship. This is lovely and really open in a kind of riot grrrl way that’s warm and strong and encouraging and comforting and inspiring. A concept that pushes back at any impulse that says there’s not enough space.
The discussion of the kind of insecure and boastful aspect of asking other people if they’ve read X is especially well taken here, because like the potential of such a book to be cruel it also has the potential to be snobby and exclusive—like, what, you don’t know all these author? Psh. But this too it avoids through thoughtfulness and an appreciation of the relationships between authors—the connections—rather than treating one’s influences and passions as tokens in an avant-gardist social status game. Instead this is a work of enthusiasm, sharing this catalogue of other writers with readers with affection.
I loved this book. I love that it exists for people who might just be discovering visual poetry and becoming visual poets now. I think of myself about a decade ago, digging around for women visual poets, printing out Mary Ellen Solt’s poems and my sister binding them into a book for me. Sitting in my room reading in a sunbeam, my mom ironing in the next room, reading about Solt writing on her ironing board. I still have that homemade book on my shelf. I’m so glad this book exists—for what it means not only to me to read it now, but for what it will mean to others who are looking for a way in to vispo that speaks to them and their lives. I love that it exists for the people who are going to be totally blown away by Spinosa and Siklosi’s conversation, having never read anything quite like that before. This book is a real gift to vispo, it’s fans and present and future practitioners. It means a lot.
Shelf Tour #6: Surfaces /
Fridays are sort of strange now. That kid feeling of “the weekend!!!!” is sort of replaced with “well, I guess I’ll keep sitting here…” so today I wanted to do something out of the ordinary. So, I went through Eric Schmaltz’s beautiful book “Surfaces.” This is one of my most recent acquisitions, bought as a COVID cheer-up item. I’d wanted it for a while and wanted to spend a bit of money at Shelf Life since I’m presently employed, and I’m glad I got it. These posts aren’t meant to be reviews, but I love how this book reminds me of graphic design from when I was a kid, of the rolls of drawings my dad would be working on, and the stationary store near my house growing up… the wonderful shelves of pens and pencils and erasers and notebooks for various notepads for various vocations. Also check out this cover… the textures remind me both of cuts and of Kyle Flemmer’s sonnets. Very cool, very evocative. This one’s been sitting on the new books pile so now it’ll take its place on the Canadian poetry shelf.
Shelf Tour #5: Stampede /
Aside from five years in Montreal, I’ve lived all my life in Calgary. The announcement today that Stampede is being cancelled this year upset me more than I expected. It was inevitable, I know, but the Stampede being cancelled in some ways makes the effect of COVID on all our lives and this city feel all the more deep and real and intractable. As Mayor Nenshi said, this is tough—even the flood didn’t stop Stampede from going forward. I’m definitely not oblivious to the problematic things that crop up every year because of Stampede, and I loath almost all the country music I’ve ever heard, but this one still gets me. From the goofy window drawings, to childhood memories of having and ice cream with my mom and sister in Weadickville or watching the fireworks from Scotchman’s Hill with my dad, to getting to see bands I wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise at the Coke Stage as a teenager, to enjoying a distracting day of fun when my dad was in the hospital, to chatting up the gardening people about what’s going wrong with my kale (everything!) and wandering around the art show, and of course, hiding from the the yearly hail storm no matter my age and eating mini doughnuts and watching the Powow dances, the Stampede is such a fixture that it feels like cancelling… I dunno. Regular life? Finding out in the same breath that Folk Fest was also cancelled was sadder still. I love Folk Fest and am very sorry and sad to see it cancelled too.
So, today it’s a Stampede book. I haven’t read this one… I think I got it at the CBC book sale, or my mom might have picked it up for me. I have a little collection of Western Canadian/Calgary community histories, and this is one of those. I think I might actually dig into this one on the weekend.
Shelf Tour #4: The Forks! The Lap! The Forks! The Lap! /
Today is allegedly “Canadian Film Day” which might be a made up thing the toby I lived with used as an excuse to have us rewatch “My Winnipeg,” but that’s neither here nor there, as one needs no excuse to rewatch “My Winnipeg.” It is the best movie and one should periodically rewatch it unprompted for maximum enjoyment of life.
I first watched it after my mom, when she’d taken it out from the library. She wasn’t sure if I, not a Winnipegger like her, would appreciate it (she’s not from there but lived there for many years). At the time I was preparing to move to Montreal and a wept and wept watching it. Every time since then I’ve laughed hysterically at it. One day I would love to write something analogous for Calgary. For this reason when I found out Coach House had a “My Winnipeg” book I ordered it immediately, and have proceeded in my usual way to not read it but just poses it, greedily.
We got talking about Manitoba, and books, and that brings us a special guest book from the toby’s shelf: “Manitoba Book of Everything.”
In reading a list of “You Know You’re from Manitoba When”s from this book, I’ve learned that Winnipeggers yell “Halloween Apples!” either instead of or in addition to “Trick or treat!” when trick or treating. How interesting… how bizarre…
Shelf Tour #3: Tartans! /
Today is the first in a long list of books that I got at the Fair’s Fair on 17th Ave & 14th. Sigh. I miss that bookstore so much. I’d gone there since I was a little kid and so many of my favourite book memories were there. Also Off the Wall. Ugh I still miss that place so much it hurts.
I don’t have the steam to write more about bookstore grief today, so here’s today’s book!
I bought this book because I thought “woah—how unique” though the next time I went to the store there was another copy on the shelf, ha! That quip aside I think this book is super appealing—it contains all these full colour reproductions of Scottish tartans alongside explanations of them. In some ways this seemed like the sort of book that wouldn’t get made anymore, and I really love books from the not at all distant past that might not be produced today. Often those are heavily illustrated books, to which I’m always drawn, and this one appealed to that sensibility.
Here’s the Anderson tartan for my friend Isobel :)
Anyway—as I mentioned—low on stream today. TTFN