Don't look now...

...but things might actually be looking up. The first day of the Committee of the Whole on Dec. 1st. was encouraging. It looked to me, from my seat in the audience, as though many of the city councillors were as sick of this go-round as we are. Clive Doucet's offer to move, right then and there, to strike the arts cuts off the budget and make some priorities so that we didn't have to go through all this again this time next year was particularly welcome.

Still, no one talking about actually adhering to the Investment Strategy and - gasp - bringing Ottawa into line with all the other major cities in the country in terms of per capita arts funding, but ... baby steps, right? 

And this coalition government idea... maybe we can swing that to lift some of the financial burden that's been laid on the city so the council doesn't even have to think about the painful decision of allocating money to culture, subsidized daycare for poor families, or fixing 125-year-old water mains.

In other news... George Elliott Clarke is in town today, bringing his latest jazz opera, Trudeau: Long March, Shining Path! He'll be at the University of Ottawa's Academic Hall, at 7:00. Admission's free, but get there early if you want to get a seat, this guy packs the room.

I'm sorry to have missed Glen Hirshberg at the Dusty Owl last Sunday - I read his novel The Snowman's Children and am burning my way through his short story collection, American Morons, right now. The Snowman's Children surprised me. On the surface, and structurally, it's a pretty formulaic book. When was the last time the dual-timeline, avoiding-the-central-secret-till-the-second-last-chapter structure was actually new? Stop me if you've read this before: a man leaving his twenties, in a troubled marriage, goes back to his hometown to confront something terrible that happened when he was a kid. The story is told in flashbacks to the childhood, which studiously avoid telling you what the horrible thing is, and a present timeline that traces the adult character's conflictedness about digging up old ghosts. But here's where the book grabbed me - it's set in a throughly unsettling 70's Detroit, in the narrator's bizarre childhood - made more bizarre by the mental illness that's explicit in one character and hinted at in almost everyone else. There's just something slightly more twisted about his Detroit - a city which is already fairly surreal in its emptiness and decay. 

His metaphors, too, are startling and original. Visual in an incongruous way that I associate with poetry. I'd be reading along and I'd suddenly be surprised by a totally original and strangely apt image. 

Anyway, I'm sorry I missed him. But I am looking forward to seeing Adrian de Hoog this coming Sunday. Literary spy novels set in Ottawa? This guy's read my mind. When I visited Washington DC this summer I really, really wanted to write a screenplay where the sort of thing you're used to seeing happen in DC in the movies takes place here in Ottawa. Men in black. Superspies. Conspiracies. Alien invasions. You know. So I gotta see what this guy's done.

And a final plug: I went out last night to Sean Zio's Dusty Owl Play Date, and came out refreshed, encouraged, and wanting to irresponsibly make some coffee and just stay up all night writing. I also came out with the first draft of something that had surprised me as I was writing it: something I didn't expect to write that evening. This is the fun of the Play Date. 

Sean's also organized a one-day, two-workshop session on the 13th of December: "Learning to Repeat Yourself Well," a poetry workshop with Pearl Pirie, and "Getting Comfortable with Creative Writing," a fiction and creative prose workshop with Richard Taylor. There are all kinds of details on the Dusty Owl site. This workshop is crazy cheap at $30 for one and $50 for both. Check out the info, and give Sean a shout if you want to sign up.

Come to City Hall tomorrow!

Tomorrow at 10:00 the arts community's gathering at City Hall to make their views known about the budget. I'm hoping there won't be a seat in the place. I'm hoping Jean Piggott Hall is crowded. With luck, there'll be people all the way out to the Plaza. For sure, they'll be there for the rally at noon. Wear black, bring your signs and all the old stuff from the last time we had to do this. Conservation!

Today I'm writing from the Christmas craft sale at the RA Centre. 10:00-5:00. If you can tolerate the cheesy Christmas music (ew, R&B versions of "White Christmas") and you want to come by, it looks like there are some pretty cool things for sale. Like my jewelry, along with my friends Carolyn and Robyn's jewelry. I don't have any pictures of my stuff with me, but Carolyn's new site is at http://www.maidenstar.com. (We used to have a business called Gandalf's Granddaughter together but that's sort of gone under.)

Just for the sheer visual impact...

... visit the Ottawa Arts Newsletter site and start scrolling through the list of organizations that are facing the loss of their funding.

Okay, maybe the cuts can't possibly go through. I find it hard to believe, myself, really, for all I'm fighting like mad to make sure they don't.

How could they? Look at the list. Everything about this list is the heart and soul of a city. The concerts, shows, riverside breakdance battles, music lessons, afternoons out, history, sudden discoveries, ohmigod moments, opportunities to have a beer on the grass in the sun, places to take your toddler or teenager, corner art galleries, chances to get glue or paint on yourself, matinees, small places you haven't had a chance to explore yet, serendipity, slams, banners on the street on a Sunday, watching movies outside on a warm night, regular rec centre art lessons, stuff to look forward to all week ... reasons to get out of bed.

Better yet, look at that list and think about all the wonderful, creative, diverse people that caused it to be there in the first place. This is what's going on in our city. Go see some of it. 

John MacDonald's doing another charity auction...

If you remember when John auctioned off his sketch of Michael Ondaatje... he's doing another one. In August he got a great shot of Maher Arar talking to Kerry Pither over the signing table at her launch (for Dark Days: Four Canadians Tortured in the Name of Fighting Terror) with the Ottawa Writers Festival. Quill & Quire picked the photo up for an article... and John brought the issue along to the book launch for Monia Mazigh's memoir, Hope and Despair: My Struggle to Free my Husband, Maher Arar - where he got it signed by Monia, Maher, Kerry, Alex Neve (the Secretary General of Amnesty International Canada) and Susan Renouf, from Mclelland & Stewart.(I also really love this shot John got of Maher during the book launch!)

He's taking bids on the issue till November 25th, and 50% of the proceeds will be donated to Amnesty International Canada. 

For all the details, check out his Flickr page.

Insta-letter of protest!
The Council for the Arts in Ottawa has just posted an automatically populating, instant letter you can send to your councillor (in case you haven't yet.) Just enter your councillor's name, enter your contact information, and click send. Cool, huh?

Good news

I'm so happy the Mayfair Theatre is going to keep showing movies. And I'm particularly happy that it's going to make the move from being a second-string B theatre to being a repertory theatre like the Bytowne. Hooray for Lee Demarbre and the rest of the gang that bought the place. 

Yes, I'm biased - Bank & Sunnyside is a short bike ride from my house, and the Bytowne, wonderful as it is, is downtown on Rideau and harder to get to. I've been wishing the Mayfair played the kinds of interesting and exciting stuff that the Bytowne does for a long time. Now, those wishes have been answered. Besides, it's really nice to see an old theatrical-style movie theatre being used for what it should be used for. I'll be watching what happens at the Mayfair come January. I think I'll go to the opening party January 2nd. 

And for more good news:

Senator Jerry Grafstein is going to be putting forward a private members' bill to get the National Portrait Gallery back into its original proposed venue, the old US Embassy across fom Parliament. This would mean all the money they've already spent on the venue won't have been a waste, and the city will finally get the gallery it was supposed to have before the current government decided it would be a bright idea to have a competition between a bunch of Canadian cities, and then scrap the idea anyway.

Hey, there's an idea. Have the National Portrait Gallery in the National Capital. What a concept! Go Jerry.

I like good news.

Discouraged and angry
Mood:  don't ask

I've been trying to think how to post something about the proposed city budget, although it seems like it's all being said, and has been said, and was said last year, and the year before, and the year before. But it's that subject that keeps coming up, with varying levels of anger and frustration and discouragement, all week, everywhere I go. We talk about it at the Writers Festival office. We talked about it at the Small Press Fair this weekend, and I will talk about it at Dusty Owl in a couple of hours.

Yes, we're all angry. And we're all humiliated, and we're hurt, that the politicians of the city have, once again, seen the arts sector as a soft target for budget cuts. That shortsightedness continues to rule. That the mythical ordinary Canadian is assumed by the politicians to harbour some sort of resentment against the creative class that can be stoked and fed to gain votes. It's divisive, and it's poisonous, and I'm getting tired of trying to speak their language by responding to them with economic arguments. The numbers speak for themselves. The Tulip Festival alone (in one of the most-quoted statistics of this current flare-up) generates $50M in business for the city's hotels, restaurants, taxis, etc, which converts to $2M in taxes back to the city, in return for the $100,000 that the city contributes. And that's one festival. Cutting arts funding would save the city a trifling $4M or so.

But no matter how obvious the benefits of arts events are in raw economic terms, it seems like the city is, blindly, only concerned with this week's optics. They're assuming that people whose idea of entertainment is reality TV or an evening at Silver City will tip the voting scales in their favour. Why? I don't know. Maybe out of resentment at some 'ivory tower' crowd of freakish artists trying to make them spend 'their tax dollars' on dresses made of meat or million-dollar abstract paintings. Or xenophobia - 'I never go downtown, aren't there, like, homeless people there?' Or out of an immediate-gains mentality that discounts ripple effects and indirect benefits, and goes straight for the cash-in, profit-out model. I don't know.

But what kind of city do we want? Ottawa's already trailing all the other major Canadian cities in terms of its support of the arts. And it's the capital of the country. Shouldn't Ottawa be a place where Canadian artists are showcased? Should there even have been a debate as to whether the now-defunct Portrait Gallery should be established here? Does this city have any pride, or not?

Yes, we have to fight this again, depressing and humiliating and infuriating as it is. Much as we may feel the urge at times to throw in the towel and let Ottawa have its art-free city. Individual artists will lose their grants otherwise. The Festivals will lose their funding, and all the other funding that depends on that show of support by our city government. The small theatres will suffer or close. Propeller Dance and House of PainT will go down. Literary readings will stop being able to bring in authors from out-of-town, and stop being able to pay the ones that live here for their work, and time, and talent. And we won't be able to be proud of our country's capital city (except, maybe, there'll still be some statues and big buildings.)

There's a list of city councillors here. I've already written mine (and Larry O'Brien, of course.)

There's a feedback form (probably just as good, and a click or three quicker) here. 

There will be a press conference on Tuesday the 18th at 10:00 at the City Hall Chambers, organized by Ottawa Festivals. Everyone is welcome.

On Wednesday, November 19th, at 7:00 PM at Club SAW, CARFAC will host a meeting that is open to Ottawa artists of all disciplines and those who support them, to discuss the impact those cuts will have for individual artists and what can be done to stop them.

And you can spread the word. . . and you can take some time to go out and support the arts on your own, now. Go to a show, buy an independent artist's CD or book or painting, pay what you really can at pay-what-you-can shows, consider doubling your donation to the hat or basket or box at the door. Let the city's artists know they have allies and friends in the real world, if not in the council chambers.

Not Talking Down (especially this week)

As a followup to my thoughts on children's lit and not talking down or avoiding the tough stuff - I spent Friday and Saturday morning driving Stephanie Innes and Harry Endrulat, the co-authors of A Bear In War, around to schools and the official launch at the Canadian War Museum Saturday morning, as part of the Writers Festival's children's program.

I have to admit, when I first read the book the full impact of it didn't hit me, but meeting Stephanie, the great-granddaughter of the soldier who was killed, and spending the day with the history of one family who lost someone in WWI, really had an impact on me. By the end of the day I was fascinated with the small family details of the story. And the book really touched the kids - and the teachers: in one school I looked over as they finished reading the story and two of the teachers were in tears.

And - no talking down. They handle the death of the soldier pretty lightly - so lightly, in fact, that it warrants one sentence: "Daddy died that day, too, and I stayed in his pocket for a long, long time." At first I thought maybe that was almost too short - too glossed over - but then I can't see a reason to go into more detail when your target audience is seven-year-olds. And the children clearly understood the impact of that one sentence, from their questions and comments.

The authors do talk about it afterwards, and when one boy asked, "Why did Daddy die when he went to the war?" they did have to answer that sometimes that's what happens when you go to war. The kids asked some real questions. How did he die? Did everyone die that fought? I wonder how much they already knew about war - how much they knew from videogames like Call of Duty and how much they knew about the real World Wars in contrast.

Remembrance Day was always a little scary to me when I was a kid. The whole idea of war was scary, and in my elementary school the ninth graders had to create and put on a dramatic production for our Remembrance Day assembly. They usually had a great time re-creating war movie scenes with bombs and trenches and gunfire, and it usually terrified me. But I don't think anyone would have said that because it scared me, I shouldn't go to the assembly and watch it. 

Kids are still reading The Diary of Anne Frank too, I hear. And all the other WWII books they assign in elementary curricula, I assume. The Silver Sword and whatnot. 

 

So much for my vague Remembrance Week observations. On another note, I'm going to see Spamalot this afternoon. I'm both pretty pumped for it and slightly worried. I really do love Monty Python, but I'm suspicious of Broadway. Plus, no Tim Curry. Damn. But, hey. I had to see it. I'll let you know. 

Politics aside - the Writers Festival wraps up, and KidLit

I don't think this is a particularly flattering shot of either of us, but this is me and Pulitzer winner Junot Diaz on the last day of the Writers Festival (photo taken by my friend Nick Tytor.) It was Day Ten for me and the rest of the Festival staff - note the slightly glassy look in my eyes, the unkempt state of my hair, the Voltron T-shirt (which Junot recognized, hooray.)

I don't normally do the picture-with-the-famous-person thing (I really don't often do the book-signing thing either), but this signing line seemed to come with its own private paparazzi, and I think Junot appreciates the flashbulbs. It's not every day a writer gets to act like a rock star. And, I'm pretty happy Nick took the picture, because I really, really loved Junot's book, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Even if it did hurt my heart a little to read. Something about his hapless nerd of a central character. Being a card-carrying geek myself, I really felt for him.

There's no way I could possibly cover everything about the recent Writers Festival. It was a marathon - ten days of crazy greatness. Check out the lovely photographs taken by John MacDonald (around the birth of twins, no less - congratulations John!) and Charles Earl, and check out the lit blogs and the reviews on the discussion board for some idea of how cool it all was.

There have been several moments in the middle of all the madness when I've wished for a few hours to process and write something about the ideas, about the writing. I wanted time to really mull over the 'Writing for Children, Writing for Adults' event on the first weekend, for example. Being the children's program coordinator for the Festival, I've come up hard against a lot of issues around children's lit, and in particular I wanted to ask all three panelists about their opinions on age bands printed on book jackets. Somehow, I know that even though it makes it much easier for me to arrange a school visit if I can just say, "this one's for your juniors," I disagree with age banding. This book is suitable for ages 8-14? What the hell is that supposed to mean? At 12 I was reading Robert Louis Stephenson, Shakespeare, Madeleine L'Engle, Richard Adams, Harry Harrison, L.M. Montgomery, Stephen King, Arthur C. Clarke, and Jean M. Auel. And never mind that the age difference between an 8 year old and a 14 year old is astronomical (and the difference in reading preferences between a geeky 12 year old like me and my jockish classmate and next-door neighbour Mark was pretty marked too, until I got him hooked on Dragonlance.)

And a well-written children's book shouldn't appeal only to children; nor should you assume that kids won't appreciate something written for adults. I watched a rowdy group of seven- and eight-year-olds in the homework club at the Ottawa Inuit Children's Centre fall silent and listen intently to a piece Dave Bidini had written for Canadian Geographic about his trip to Iqaluit. (Although none of them could name a book that they liked to read, they later told their coordinator that the thing they remembered most about the whole evening was the vividness of his descriptions.) And an adult Festival-goer saw me reading Kenneth Oppel's Airborn at the ticket table one afternoon, and said, "That's a great book, I read both in the series."

"The third just came out," I told her, "It's for sale over at the book table." She ran off to get a copy.

In the 'Writing for Children, Writing for Adults' discussion, there was some discussion of editing work specifically for a young audience, and an argument that, sadly, didn't really get started about whether or not to include swearing, dark themes, tragedy, and violence. I did have an interesting discussion with Kenneth Oppel on the way to a school about including swearing and violence in his books (there's a little bit of mild swearing in the Airborn books, which apparently offends parents much more than the fact that people get shot through the head. I also thought it was interesting that in his school presentations, he edits his own book to exclude anything even remotely stereotypical or offensive ... for example, where a character, in the middle of a fight scene, calls the French character a 'great gaseous frog', he simply changes the line in his public reading.)

In this panel, though, the subject of age bands didn't come up, although I wanted to ask the question. There's an organization I just read about, which a number of notable "children's" authors have signed on with, called No To Age Banding. Philip Pullman's written an address attacking the idea of age banding (and he's a classic example of a writer who's been handed the label of "children's author" because his books a) contain fantasy and b) feature a protagonist who is a child. But, the main character of Angela's Ashes is (mostly) a child too... 

Ah, but when Penguin pitches me a book to include in the Festival, it is nice to be able to say, okay, this one's for the primaries, that one's for the juniors, this one's a junior high book. And for people who don't know much about children's literature, and who need to buy a book for their niece or nephew, I suppose it's a handy guideline... but dammit, no, if it's just one kid you're dealing with, then read the book, think about the child you're buying for, and make a call. 

The War on Words

My father just sent me this link, from the New Yorker online. This piece by James Wood fascinated and scared me - I hadn't thought about the pervasive culture of distrusting words, as though they're inherently false and deceitful, and certainly not in this way. I'm still processing what it means, what the implications are. 

A snippet:

"In recent elections, the Republican hate word has been “liberal,” or “Massachusetts,” or “Gore.” In this election, it has increasingly been “words.” Barack Obama has been denounced again and again as a privileged wordsmith, a man of mere words who has “authored” two books (to use Sarah Palin’s verb), and done little else. The leathery extremist Phyllis Schlafly had this to say, at the Republican Convention, about Palin: “I like her because she’s a woman who’s worked with her hands, which Barack Obama never did, he was just an élitist who worked with words.” The fresher-faced extremist Rick Santorum, a former Republican senator, called Obama “just a person of words,” adding, “Words are everything to him.” The once bipartisan campaign adviser Dick Morris and his wife and co-writer, Eileen McGann, argue that the McCain camp, in true Rovian fashion, is “using the Democrat’s articulateness against him” (along with his education, his popularity, his intelligence, his wife—pretty much everything but his height, though it may come to that). John McCain’s threatened cancellation of the first Presidential debate was the ultimate defiance, by action, of words; sure enough, afterward conservatives manfully disdained Barack Obama’s “book knowledge.” To have seen the mountains of Waziristan with one’s own eyes—that is everything.

Doesn’t this reflect a deep suspicion of language itself? It’s as if Republican practitioners saw words the way Captain Ahab saw “all visible objects”—as “pasteboard masks,” concealing acts and deeds and things—and, like Ahab, were bent on striking through those masks. The Melvillean atmosphere may not be accidental, since, beyond the familiar American anti-intellectualism—to work with words is not to work at all—there’s a residual Puritanism. The letter killeth, as St. Paul has it, but the spirit giveth life. (In that first debate, McCain twice charged his opponent with the misdeed of “parsing words.”) In this vision, there is something Pharisaical about words. They confuse, they corrupt; they get in the way of Jesus."

There's a lot more to this article... read on!