Bywords Summer Reading – July 19, 2009

With The Police classic, “Walking on the Moon,” softly in the background, Steve Zytveld of Dusty Owl introduced the Bywords Quarterly Journal (Summer 2009) and our host, Amanda Earl. After some tinkering with the microphone, which elicited several double-entendres and chuckles, Earl officially opened the 19 July 2009 afternoon of music and poetry (Bywords Summer Reading) at Swizzles on Queen St. Although it was a Sunday in mid-summer, the turn-out was impressive … looks like Bywords’ partnership with Dusty Owl is working out splendidly.

The afternoon’s musical guest was singer-songwriter and musician John Gillies, a Bywords favourite. Gillies’ first selection, based on the adage “red sky at night, sailors’ delight,” featured a blend of kazoo and keyboard, creating a unique and pleasant, sound. The piece began slowly, almost laconically: “You ain’t gonna give the honey back to the bees / I want to wash my sins away,” but picked up as the speaker’s plea for redemption became more urgent: “I went out to the river mourning / I want to hear those angels’ wings / don’t you cry no more”… “I went out . . . at the breaking of the day / with a drop of red they say.” Gillies’ next offering was a pretty melody with lush orchestration (courtesy of the keyboard), which he described as a “four in the morning song.”

The first poet was Stephanie Farrington– formerly of British Columbia, now of Ottawa, but soon to be of Texas. Having once heard Farrington read at Bywords, I knew to expect a grand performance and I wasn’t disappointed. After “Woman come late” (Bywords, Summer 2009), Farrington presented “The Brujo Wedding,” a poem that could easily be published as a short story. The exotic images—“paste of pig’s brains mixed with fat,” “statues purchased from a desperate shaman [...] [that] brought the bride her Brujo,” and “pomegranate seeds and long winters”– provide a tone that alternates between quaintness and dread. And, ironically, the urbane speaker has underestimated the gauche Brujo: “He grabs my hand and tells my fortune without my consent. And, he is right—exactly.” Years ago I met a Brujo, and believe me you don’t want to mess with one!

Then, former Ottawa resident Shawn MacMillan fished out several pieces of “foolscap” (when was the last time you heard that word?) from his pocket and read from them. To my delight, those pieces of paper housed a number of charming images. The first poem, “dissemination” (Bywords, Summer 2009), was followed by “Bursting at the seams with love (for Emily),” an edenic poem adorned with devotional language. In a world of “obsidian moons and desert skies,” love’s physical component transmutes into a mystical union: “My kisses adorn your hair like haloes …. Soon enough I will glide on these wings.” Still, my favourite image from the piece was the whimsical “pocketfuls of sunshine.”

Next, “Blueberries” (Bywords, Summer 2009) by science and technology writer Kerri Power, do not evoke pleasant memories of childhood, but instead cause the speaker to painfully recall a parent’s stingy, resentful nature. Conversely, the bellicose family members of “The Greek Gods” are joyous and vigorous: “They demanded sacrifice...They fought at dinner and spat in the olives...They loved a good cheese fondue…There were like family.” Continuing with the food motif, Power finished her set with the clever “How to bake a saint” (Bywords, Summer 2009) inspired by The Joy of Cooking.

Different genres of art inspire and infuse each other. Dean Steaman’s five-part “Processional,” inspired by Pieter Bruegel’s panoramic painting “The Procession to Calvary” (see below), exemplifies this permeation.

But Steadman’s poem has a narrative “twist”—it recounts The Passion narrative from a canine, rather than evangelical, perspective. One would expect this technique to inject a savage tenor to the proceedings; but, instead, the dogs, who “fear the wagons wheels . . . . and question the ceremony of crucifixion,” exhibit more humanity than do the tormentors. If I am correct, then the animals’ task is to hasten the death process thereby relieving the victim of his suffering: “they would hold the nails ... pound them with their bloodied snouts and claws ... hone the spear’s fine edge ... tearing the untethered flesh.” And, their compassion is unbiased: “They led Judas to the orchard [to find the right tree to support his weight].” Unlike condemnatory humans, the animals sense that the betrayer’s mental anguish surpasses the limits of corporeal mortification (see the Gnostic Gospel of Judas).

After Steadman’s sombre reflection, John Gillies returned with a song inspired by the August 2003 power blackout in Ontario. All that I can remember about that time is having an unexpected holiday from work; for the speaker, though, the darkness reveals formerly unseen treasures: “I see the moonlight shining off the curve of your sweetest lines .... swimming in the darkness now, you gotta dive to get those pearls.” Gillies ended Bywords Summer Reading with “A Letter from the Great Beyond,” a comforting piece wherein the dead, like guardian angels, keep watch over loved ones.

A reminder that the John Newlove Award will be presented during the Ottawa International Writers’ Festival, on Wednesday, October 21, 2009, at 8:30 pm, at St. Brigid’s Cente for the Humanities. See you there.

Catharine Carroll, Lammas 2009