I was probably out there a couple of times a year throughout the Eighties. I doubt we spoke to the interpretive staff, though. My father prefered to do the lecturing himself.
Ditto about the Canadian writers.
I actually have an Earle Birney novel sitting on my shelves that I never got around to reading, called Down the Long Table. But I think I’ll check out Turvey first.
I’ll actually be in the neighbourhood starting Easter Monday. I’m doing some research out west for a personal project of mine, so I’m flying out then. A trip to Fort Rodd Hill might be helpful, so I’ll see if I can make it out.
I think you’re right about that. Certainly no one I’ve talked to about her work ever expressed halfway feelings.
I do love her work. Last weekend, I devoured Survival in a day and a half. I’m a very slow reader, so that speed is unprecedented for me. The week before that it was The Edible Woman.
I feel that, if I’m going to specialize in CanLit, I should love some incredibly obscure, experimental author (“What? You haven’t read Dave Godfrey’s ‘New Year’s Morning on Bloor Street’?”), rather than one who’s often found on the bestseller shelves. But I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read by Atwood, and it always strikes a cord with me.
I’ve read chunks of it, though never right through. I’ve also read chunks of her sister’s The Backwoods of Canada. Moodie’s pessimism and Traill’s optimism make for interesting contrasts. Taken together, they’re a very bipolar account of settlers’ life. I think it says something about the Canadian psyche that Moodie is always remembered and Traill gets forgotten.
I’ve never even heard of that one, though I’ve read a couple of Callaghan’s short sotries (“Ancient Lineage,” “A Sick Call”).
I stumbled across a dark, bizarre novel recently called Settlers of the Marsh, by Frederick Phillip Grove. He was apparently a well known author in his day, though I’d never heard of him. Apparently, the novel fell into obscurity because it was considered obscene. It was also about a man who’s involved with a prostitute.
I’ve read some of the Sunshine Sketches. My favourite Leacock so far is “Hannah of the Highlands” from The Nonsense Novels, a very silly take on the tragic romance genre.
In my high school, we had A Bird in the House. I read The Stone angel for the first time last month.
Well, here I have to admit something shameful: I’ve only read one work by Davies – The Lyre of Oprpheus. I really enjoyed though, so I’m always open to recommendations.
I have yet to read any Findley, though I have Pilgrim sitting on my shelf.
I went through a Coupland phase where I read all his stuff (I still haven’t gotten to All Families are Psychotic). I liked Microserfs, too, though my favourite is his very surreal Girlfriend in a Coma. I didn’t like Miss Wyoming very much – nothing new, and a weak conclusion.
I have “Dry Lips…” on my shelf, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I like Faulkner, so it should be a treat
I’ll give it a try, then. I guess what turned me off with Baraka was it was obviously and excuciatingly autobiographical, and – disappointing for an author with Saul’s wicked sense of humour – the autobiographical character wasn’t self-deprecating, but rather overly sympathetic.
I’d also add Wayne Johnston to the list for The Navigator of New York and The Colony of Unrequited Dreams. And Ann-Marie MacDonald for Fall on Your Knees.
And for contemporary short stories that are hugely enjoyable I adore Stuart McLean’s Vinyl Cafe stories. I buy both the books and the cd’s, and will take any chance I can get to see him in person.
I think that is the one - all I remember clearly is a guy freezing to death when he nearly has his fire built then a big plump of snow from above puts it out. I recall that the book didn’t knock my socks off either. Pretty mediocre. Turns out Sean Stewart isn’t even Canadian - he was born in the U.S. Okay, he moved to Canada at age three - I guess I’ll give him honourary citizenship status.
Whoops, I missed the whole ‘pre-20th century’ thing. My bad.
However, since most suggestions to this thread are from the current-century-minus-one, I’ll add a couple more suggestions.
One-- the book “Stanley Park” – a conjoined tale of coffee, restaurants, and cold case murders. It really captures Vancouver in the late 20th century.
Two-- Spider Robinson. He’s lived in Canada for nigh on 20 years, most of those in Vancouver and its suburbs. Some of his stories are set there. Well worth reading.
And I wish I still had some notes from my college days, but after taking 10 English classes in toto, I tossed them all through sheer frustration…
