Our Embarrassing Poet Reconsidered

Just over a century ago, he was the toast of Montreal. His poetry collections sold tens of thousands of copies; two universities gave him an honorary degree; the Royal Society of Literature elected him a member. He travelled across the United States, Canada and Britain, lecturing before admiring crowds. In 1907, when he died of a stroke just before his 53rd birthday, his reputation seemed assured.

Today almost nobody reads William Henry Drummond. In the literary world, he's close to an embarrassment.

So begins a very fine piece by my pal Mark Abley, published in yesterday's Gazette – available online here.

Mark is spot on in writing that almost nobody reads Dr Drummond today. I don't; in fact, I've never read a single poem by the man. Strange this, because his The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems was one of only four books of Canadian verse present in my childhood home. I took it with me to university, thinking that at some point I might have to read a poem or two by this once popular poet. Never happened – his name wasn't so much as mentioned.

I've been carrying The Habitant with me ever since. A first edition, published in 1897 by G.P. Putnam's Sons, it once belonged to A. Berenice Hunt (née Coslett), who was a neighbour of my father when he was growing up on Pointe Claire's Claremont Avenue. It's pretty clear that Mrs Hunt was a fan of Drummond. Found within the book's leaves are numerous newspaper clippings of the doctor's verse, all dating from the early years of the last century. Added into the mix is something called "Lac Felice" credited to Joe Picard.

I've not been able to find out anything about M Picard, nor have I been able to track down any more of his verse, but I think it safe to say that Drummond was an influence. Did the doctor's reach extend even farther? Louis Dudek thought so, writing in his Selected Essays and Criticism that the poet "loosened the straightjacket of literary puritanism and made it possible to free language for the expression of real life and human character."

Drummond might be worth a second look... or, in my case, a first.

The Stylish, Sophisticated Théâtre Canadien

Zone

Marcel Dubé

Hier, les enfants dansaient

Gratien Gélinas

Les Beaux Dimanches

Marcel Dubé

The first three volumes in the Collection Théâtre Canadien, all published in 1968 by Montreal's Éditions Leméac.

Q: Has there ever been a better looking series in this country?

A: Nope.

Pierre Trudeau's Letter to the Children of Troy

At a time when our libraries are under assault by those who would deny others the advantages they themselves have enjoyed, considerable comfort can be found in this month's news out of Troy, Michigan.

Thanks to the efforts of a lady named Marguerite Hart, I'd heard of this small city and its public library long before the recent trials and tribulations. Forty years ago, as the building reached completion, she'd asked leading figures of the day to share their thoughts on libraries with the children of Troy. Ninety-seven answered the call, among them Kingsley Amis, Neil Armstrong, Pearl Bailey, John Berryman, Helen Gurley Brown, Pat Nixon, Vincent Price, Neil Simon, Benjamin Spock and E.B. White.

Ronald Reagan, a hero to so many leading today's charge against public libraries, contributed this:

A world without books would be a world without light – without light, man cannot see. Through the written word a world of enlightenment has been created and had taught us about the past to enable us to build for the future.

Without spending a penny, one can travel to the ends of the earth, the depths of the oceans and now, through the infinity of space. One can learn a new trade or improve his skills in an old one, and the list is endless.

Fine words, as are those of Pierre Trudeau, but my favourite come from Isaac Asimov:

The letters to the children of Troy - all ninety-seven - can be seen here.

An Intrepid Reporter's Mysterious Disappearance

Fifty years ago today saw journalist Jeff Buchanon's last appearance in the pages of Montreal's Gazette. Handsome and fearless, he was in very many ways Canada's answer to Steve Roper. Buchanon's time at the Gazette was not a long one. When the reporter first appeared, in the 17 October 1960 edition, he'd only just returned from the Arctic and, with wife Julie, was soon flying off to Sydney, Nova Scotia. (Cliquez pour agrandir.)

Sadly, the couple's "MARITIME HOLIDAY" was disrupted by smugglers.

Truth be told, it wasn't much of a break. There was no relaxation to be had on the return to their Montreal home; within days Buchanon found himself entangled in a protection racket.

He was almost played by a dame.

A few more adventures ensued before Buchanon was assigned to investigate "small time robberies by kids." Dantin, the editor of his unnamed newspaper, cautioned that there might be dope involved – and was he ever right!

By extraordinary coincidence, Buchanon had only just begun work on the story when he witnessed a gas station robbery committed by those very same kids.

He tailed them.

He confronted them.

And then he disappeared, never to be seen again... at least in the pages of The Gazette. The panel above was his very last.

Did Buchanon turn to a life of crime? Was he offed by the kids? I suppose Julie cared. Not so the readers of the Gazette; the paper published no letters of concern.

Consider this a cold case... one I have every intention of solving after I've retired from the force.

Four Days in Darkest Quebec

Four Days

John Buell

New York: Farrar, Straus & Cudahy, 1962

Jacket copy gives far too much away, recounting in detail the first half of this novel, and revealing the fate of its 12-year-old protagonist. I won't be making the same mistakes.

This is a work to be celebrated, studied and, more than anything, read, because that protagonist – a nameless orphan – might just be the best realized child in our literature. We first see him cycling around Westmount, collecting money on his newspaper deliveries. The tips help, but the job's real value comes through information on vacation plans that he passes on to older brother Milt, a petty thief. The pair live a hand-to-mouth existence, which Milt believes he'll change with a plan that will lead to the big leagues. We're now at page 27, roughly a tenth of the way through the book; I know better than to give away more of the plot.

So, let's return to the dust jacket: "In his second book John Buell more than fulfills the promise of his extraordinary first novel, The Pyx." Very true. Four Days is the better book, though this wasn't reflected in sales.

It was published in England by Macmillan, and was translated into French as Quatre Jours (Paris: Stock, 1963), a "roman américain [sic]". A German language edition was appeared under the mysterious title Lauter Wölfe (Munich: List, 1964). These were followed by paperback editions from Pan (1965), Popular Library (1968) and HarperCollins Canada (1991). "SOON TO BE A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE", trumpets the Popular Library edition. Well, it was optioned in 1962, but the designations "SOON" and "MAJOR" were a tad optimistic. When finally released in 1999, Four Days, the "MOTION PICTURE", used the cinema only as a rest stop on the highway to DVD.

Liberties were taken. Milt is transformed from brother to father and is given a girlfriend named Feather. London, Ontario's Lolita Davidvich earns second billing as Chrystal, a character that doesn't even feature in the book. This scene, with Kevin Zegers playing our unnamed protagonist, will appear utterly foreign to anyone who has read the novel:

Following The Pyx by three years, Four Days was a sophomore effort. On its strength alone, Edmund Wilson positioned Buell as one of Canada's foremost writers. Eleven years passed before novel number three appeared. By then, Wilson was dead. Where were John Buell's champions? Where are they today?

Object and Access: A very attractive hardcover with jacket by Enrico Arno. I bought my inscribed first edition in 1985 for two Canadian quarters. Twenty-six years later, Very Good copies – unsigned – can be had for as little as US$11.00. Though not plentiful, paperbacks begin at less than a loonie. Our libraries are oh-so-predictable: the universities come through, while the others – save the ever reliable (though threatened) Toronto Public Library – fail miserably. Whether in English or French translation, Four Days is not to be found in the Bibliothèques de Montréal. For shame.

Manifest Destiny

Pocket Books' 1974 edition of William C. Heine's The Last Canadian, our silliest novel, seen here with the edition Paperjacks packaged for the American market.

"TERRIFYING!"

Related posts:

At long Last Lunacy

Silent, but Deadly

Mordecai's Mom's Memoirs

The new issue of Canadian Notes and Queries has arrived, bringing a rich mixture of essays on collecting, bookselling and Mordecai Richler. With ninety-six pages of goodness, there's too much to list here, but I will point CanLit collectors to essays by Nigel Beale, Michael Darling and Jim Fitzpatrick. I add that admirers of Charles Foran's Mordecai are treated to the biography's original preface, penned just as work was beginning.

My own piece deals with The Errand Runner: Reflections of a Rabbi's Daughter, the 1981 book by Leah Rosenberg, Richler's mother. A product of John Wiley & Sons' Toronto branch plant, it ranks as the most awkward and badly edited memoir I've yet come across – and here I'm including self-published stuff. Blame belongs entirely with the publisher, which reveals its reason for signing the memoir on the book's dust jacket.

As I write in CNQ: "Discard the dust jacket, however, and Mordecai Richler's name disappears. His is not to be found in the text..."

More in print.

Subscriptions are available here.