Mon, 5 October 2009 ![]() Writer, journalist, comic reader, intermittent blogger, and over-tired family man Brad Mackay is the author most recently of a biographical essay which appears in The Collected Doug Wright Volume One (Drawn and Quarterly, 2009).
First of a two-volume set, the book – designed by well known Canadian cartoonist Seth
- presents a comprehensive look at the life and career of one of the
most-read, best-loved cartoonists of the 1960s. The work draws from
thousands of pieces of art, pictures, and letters, plus the artist’s
own journals, and provides a picture of the British-born Wright as both
cartoonist and human being. It follows his artistic development from
earliest unpublished works through to the introduction of his most
enduring comic strip, Nipper. First published in 1949, a full year before the debut of Peanuts, it memorably captured both the humorous and frustrating side of parenting.
I
spoke with Brad recently in Ottawa. We use Wright as a wedge to delve
into the history of illustration, comics and graphic novels. Toward the
end of our discussion Brad provides some tips for those interested in
collecting comics and graphic novels on how best they might start their
journey.
Please listen here Comments[0] |
Mon, 23 March 2009
Poet,
author, Priscila Uppal, an English professor too at York University,
challenges traditional psychological and anthropological models of
mourning in her new book We Are What We Mourning: The Contemporary English-Canadian Elegy, suggesting that Canadians mourn differently. Traditional
models define successful mourning in terms of detachment from the loved
one who has died; the ability to cut the strings of grief, and to step
into the roles of mothers and fathers vacated by the dead. To become
unnecessarily identified with grief and death is, according to
traditional views, to fail at mourning. To succeed - to maintain
health- one must ‘move on;’ accept that the dead are gone; celebrate
the fact that they are in heaven. All of this Uppal debunks. After
reading thousands of Canadian elegies she concludes that mourning, at
least in late 20th century Canada, is not about forgetting, but about
claiming identity. You are, she says, what you mourn. And we,
apparently, mourn our parents in elegies to a much greater extent than
do others in the U.S. and U.K., for example, who tend to mark the death
of youth more frequently with this poetic form. Many
immigrants to Canada didn’t know their parents very well; didn’t know
their countries of origin, didn’t learn much about their traditions. In
order to take over the roles their parents played - to learn about
themselves - many have used mourning as a way to create and recreate
the past; as a means to carry on into the future. Art - the elegy - is
used as a way to attached to the past, and to connect and incorporate
it into the present. What you mourn - what it is you are upset about
losing - will determine, according to Uppal, how you see history. We talk about all of these topics, why and how the work of mourning has so drastically changed in Canada during the latter half of the twentieth century, why the contemporary English-Canadian elegy emphasizes connection rather than separation between the living and the dead. Please listen to a ‘lively’ conversation here: Copyright © 2009 by Nigel Beale. www.nigelbeale.com Comments[0] |
Fri, 10 October 2008 Patricia K. Macarthy is author of The Crimson Series, three books, to date, about vampires. We talk here about what makes Vampires so appealing to so many people, about their being symbolic of man’s desire for supremacy, women’s desire to be consumed, about the fringe elements of society, the attraction of eternal youth and immortality, confidence, the perfect villian whose weapon is seduction, alpha males, power, the lack of conscience, film, Halloween, the draw of fantasy, the defiance of death and the preciousness of time. During our conversation reference is made to poems by Byron and Goethe. Both example early literary treatment of Vampires [see vampires (and vampire fiction)]. (1) Once a stranger youth to Corinth came, Who in Athens lived, but hoped that he From a certain townsman there might claim, As his father’s friend, kind courtesy. (2) Son and daughter, they Had been wont to say Should thereafter bride and bridegroom be. But can he that boon so highly prized, Save tis dearly bought, now hope to get? They are Christians and have been baptized, He and all of his are heathens yet. (3) For a newborn creed, Like some loathsome weed, Love and truth to root out oft will threat. Father, daughter, all had gone to rest, And the mother only watches late; She receives with courtesy the guest, And conducts him to the room of state. The Giaour by Lord Byron was first published in 1813 and the first in his Oriental romance series. It proved to be a great success, consolidating Byron’s reputation critically and commercially. Here’s how it starts: No breath of air to break the wave That rolls below the Athenian’s grave, That tomb which, gleaming o’er the cliff, First greets the homeward-veering skiff, High o’er the land he saved in vain; When shall such hero live again? Copyright © 2008 by Nigel Beale. www.nigelbeale.com Please listen here: Comments[5] |
Thu, 13 December 2007 John Freeman is president of The National Book Critics Circle.
Founded in 1974, the NBCC is a non-profit organization consisting of
nearly 700 active book reviewers who honor quality writing and
communicate with one another about common concerns. We met recently and
talked, among other things, about the NBCC’s awards program, an impressive new blog site called Critical Mass, and the Campaign to Save Book Reviews, which is addressing the alarming shrinkage of newspaper book review sections across North America. Comments[0] |



