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Marvellous Repossessions: The Tempest, Globalization and the Waking Dream of Paradise

ronsdale — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 19:46:07 +0000

Marvellous Repossessions

The Tempest, Globalization and the Waking Dream of Paradise

by Jonathan Gil Harris

$10.95

January 2012
ISBN 978-1-55380-141-2
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-150-4
5 1/2″ x 9″ Trade Paperback, 56 pages
Literary Criticism
6 maps and photos

For many years now theatre directors have argued about how to present Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Originally, the play was seen as Prospero’s use of magic to reclaim his European heritage against corrupt usurpers. More recently, the play has been produced as a protest against the ongoing colonialism in the new world. In his 2011 Garnett Sedgewick Lecture at the University of BC, Professor Harris explores the play and its historical background to show how it is driven by a waking dream in which progress towards a glorious future shades into recovery of a lost past. Drawing on the logbook of Christopher Columbus in his voyage of discovery, Harris reminds us how Columbus believed that he was travelling to the East and that he had approached the original Garden of Eden. Moreover, the gold that was to be found in the supposed East would be used to create the prosperity of the West. In his examination of contemporary anti-colonialist productions of The Tempest, Harris shows how there remains a move backwards to an original paradise — in fact replicating the movement within The Tempest itself.

Freedom Bound

ronsdale — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 19:27:36 +0000

Freedom Bound

by Jean Rae Baxter

$11.95

Available February 2012
ISBN 978-1-55380-143-6
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-153-5
5 1/4″ x 7 5/8″ Trade Paperback, 256 pages
YA Novel

In this, the final instalment of Jean Rae Baxter’s best-selling young adult trilogy, eighteen-year-old Charlotte sails from Canada to Charleston in the beleaguered Thirteen Colonies to join her new husband Nick. During these final months of the American Revolution, she must muster all her wit and courage when she has to rescue Nick from being tortured as a spy in an alligator-infested South Carolina swamp. She must also find ways to bring freedom to a pair of teenage runaway slaves she has befriended. Freedom Bound delivers a frank and realistic picture of the slave system and a powerful account of what was at stake for both white and black Loyalists as they prepared to find a new home in the country that was soon to be Canada. Like The Way Lies North and Broken Trail, the two novels that preceded it, Freedom Bound contains a wealth of carefully researched historical details of one of the least known chapters of our history.

Other Ronsdale books by Jean Rae Baxter:

No Ordinary Place

ronsdale — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 19:08:22 +0000

No Ordinary Place

by Pamela Porter

$15.95

Available February 2012
ISBN 978-1-55380-151-1
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-122-1
6″ x 9″ Trade Paperback, 106 pages
Poetry

Pamela Porter’s poems celebrate a world awaiting discovery. She opens this new collection with a poem entitled “An Offering” in which she brings to the ceremony “poems / for every season — of dreams born, / burning, broken” and, in particular, one that “begins like a perilous grace” to develop as “naked and tender and wanting.” Throughout, one hears and sees images that connect both the poet and reader to other dimensions. Always for Porter, there is the moment tentatively coming into being where the mundane is transformed into something totally unexpected and otherworldly. The image can be one that develops from the natural world as in “Branches, Early Spring,” where she sees how “the trees’ red sap set the sky on fire.” Another poem based in nature is “Naming” in which “small birds life into the sky / holding in their beaks / the words we don’t need to say.” Throughout, Porter’s poems celebrate moments when we experience “the beginning of the world again.”

“Porter’s poems are direct, clear, narrative in intent, yet embedded with dazzling imagery that brings scenes fully alive.” — Canadian Bookseller

Other Ronsdale books by Pamela Porter:

Cathedral

Barclay Family Theatre, The

ronsdale — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 18:47:10 +0000

The Barclay Family Theatre

by Jack Hodgins

$18.95

Available February 2012
ISBN 978-1-55380-144-3
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-142-9
6″ x 9″ Trade Paperback, 272 pages
Novel

With The Barclay Family Theatre, his second collection of short stories, Jack Hodgins introduces us to a cast of characters who transform the everyday world of Vancouver Island into a wondrous world of human warmth and comic energy. There is Barclay Desmond, caught between the ambitions of his mother, who wants him to become a concert pianist, and his father who wants him to follow in his steps as a logger. There is Mr. Pernouski, a real estate agent and the fattest man to ride a B.C. ferry, who believes he can offer his clients their heart’s desire. Hodgins also takes us abroad to Ireland and Japan to watch as his people attempt to reinvent themselves in new theatres of action. Through it all, Hodgins depicts his people struggling to centre themselves as their world rocks them into new and unforeseen directions.

“It’s unforgettable. . . . The Barclay Family Theatre leaves the reader with the magic and wholeness of extraordinary moments.”
— Windsor Star

“In The Barclay Family Theatre we are reading the work of a major novelist at the height of his powers and fully in control of his material. . . . It’s virtuoso writing.”
— Keith Maillard, Quill & Quire

“Together these characters form a world full of diversity, illustrating the various facets of the tragicomedy of human life. We remember them as we remember the pilgrims of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales: as actors stepping forward and temporarily holding the whole stage to themselves.”
— Jeanne Delbaere, Recherches anglaises et americaines

Other Ronsdale books by Jack Hodgins:

Our Friend Joe: The Joe Fortes Story

ronsdale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 22:14:36 +0000

Our Friend Joe

The Joe Fortes Story

by Lisa Anne Smith & Barbara Rogers

$21.95

Available February 2012
ISBN 978-1-55380-146-7
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-142-9
6″ x 9″ Trade Paperback, 170 pages
30 b&w photos
Biography

When a young black man named Seraphim “Joe” Fortes arrived in Vancouver in 1885, with little to his name, no one could have possibly suspected that one hundred years later he would be voted “Citizen of the Century.” Our Friend Joe is the first biography of the West Indian sailor who became a local legend, saving dozens of lives and teaching three generations of Vancouver children how to swim. On a chance rowboat ride not far from the city, he would find his “perfect place” in English Bay, where the untold story truly begins. In 1900, after years of volunteering, Joe was officially hired by the City as lifeguard, swimming instructor and special constable of English Bay beach. Colourful, often poignant details chronicle Joe’s many adventures both on and off shore, his genuine rapport with citizens of all ages and his deeply personal relationship with one Vancouver family. On February 7, 1922, thousands of mourners lined Vancouver’s streets to bid farewell to “our friend Joe.” His legacy continues today, with one of Vancouver’s libraries named after him. Part of the proceeds from this biography are being donated to the Lifesaving Society/Société du Sauvetage, Canada’s national organization for lifeguarding and water safety expertise.

Charlie: A Home Child’s Life in Canada

ronsdale — Mon, 16 May 2011 23:28:10 +0000

Charlie

A Home Child’s Life in Canada

by Beryl Young

$12.95

February 2012
ISBN 978-1-55380-140-5
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-149-8
8″ x 8″ Trade paperback, 112 pages
60 sepia photos
Young Adult Non-fiction / Crossover Adult

Paperback edition now available!

The story of the 100,000 British children who came to Canada as child immigrants between 1870 and 1938 is not well known. Yet the descendants of these “Home Children” number over four million people in Canada today. The author is one of them. Charlie was her father.

Charlie is a compelling account of an English boy who is sent to an orphanage following the death of his father because his heartbroken mother is too poor to feed her children. Separated from his family, Charlie works his way out of poverty to eventually become a high-ranking member of the RCMP. Charlie’s story, like many others, is an inspiring part of our Canadian heritage, and will fascinate adults as well as children.

Other Ronsdale books by Beryl Young:

Follow the Elephant

REVIEWS & AWARDS

“Beryl Young’s story of her father fills a very necessary gap in Canadian history. That she does so in such an interesting and thoughtful way is a tribute to her skill as a writer. . . It is enjoyable for personal reading and as an interesting biography, as well as in classrooms as an excellent source of background material. Highly recommended.” — CM Magazine

“A warm, candid look back at the life of a man who struggled to secure a place for himself in the new world. Along with the author’s gentle and fluid narrative, the tome is seasoned with a smattering of sepia photographs of days gone by.” — The Chronicle-Herald, Halifax

*Finalist: 2010–11 Ontario Library Association Red Maple Non-fiction Award

*Finalist: 2011–12 Red Cedar Book Award

*Starred selection: Canadian Children’s Book Centre BEST BOOKS for 2010

*Finalist: Chocolate Lily Award (B.C.) 2010–11

*Finalist: Hackmatack Award (Atlantic Canada) 2010–11

*Runner-up for the National Chapter of Canada IODE Violet Downey Book Award, 2010

*Long-listed for the Canadian Literature Roundtable Information Book of 2010

Home from the Party

ronsdale — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 21:24:22 +0000

This title is no longer available.

Run Marco, Run

ronsdale — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 22:31:42 +0000

Run Marco, Run

by Norma Charles

$11.95

September 2011
ISBN 978-1-55380-131-3
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-137-5
5-1/4″ x 7-5/8″ Trade Paperback, 200 pages
Young Adult Novel

In this fast-paced novel for readers ten and up, James Graham, a Canadian journalist, is kidnapped in a market in Buenaventura, Colombia, right in front of Marco, his thirteen-year-old son. When the kidnappers try to grab Marco, his father yells at him, “Run Marco, run!” Marco manages to escape, and seeing no possibility of help in Colombia, he stows away on a freighter headed to Vancouver where a good friend of his father is living and who may be able to help.

During his search, Marco encounters what seem like insurmountable odds and learns that he must call upon his inner strength and nerve to keep going. “Valeroso; courage,” he keeps saying to himself as he evades drug dealers, security guards, the police and the authorities who would send him back to Colombia — straight into the arms of his father’s kidnappers.

Run Marco, Run is a riveting adventure about a plucky boy who will dare anything to save his father, and who learns that running away is sometimes the heroic thing to do.

Click here to read Chapter One of Run Marco, Run

THE MAN RAN furiously through the crowded streets of Buenaventura. Sweat poured down his face and neck, soaking the collar of his white shirt and fashionable business suit.

“Excuse me please!” he gasped. “Con permiso!”

He burst through a crowd waiting for the pedestrian light to change. “Let me through!” He hurled himself across the street, twisting and skipping to avoid—screech of brakes—a taxi.

“Let me through! Permiso! Permiso!” he yelled at the crowd on the far side of the street. “Let me through!”
Someone shoved him into a woman’s shoulder and the contents of her shopping bag tumbled into the gutter. Papayas and grapefruits and limes rolled in the dust.

“Gringo loco!” the woman yelled after him, shaking her fist.

Breathing raggedly, the man ran on, shouldering through those pedestrians too slow to avoid his frenzied flight. He brushed past a knot of scruffy men lurking in front of the upscale Santa Maria Apartments. They watched him silently as he attacked the steps two at a time leading up to the front door. He punched in a coded entrance number and pushed through the heavy metal door into the foyer. Then he careened down the hall to the elevator.

He waited for the elevator, mumbling, “Come on, come on, come on,” staring up at the floor indicator and cracking the knuckles of his right hand. Once inside, he stabbed at button 4 and then stood breathing heavily with his forehead pressed against the elevator door. When the door slid open he catapulted himself down the hallway to apartment number 411. He keyed the lock and exploded into the living room where his son sat at the computer.

“Marco!” The man grabbed the boy in a bear hug. “Thank God you’re here!”

“Of course. Where else would I be?” Marco dragged his eyes away from the screen and stared at his father. His father’s hair was standing on end, his office shirt stained with sweat. “What’s wrong, Papa?”

“I just heard on the radio there’s been another kidnapping right here in Buenaventura. A thirteen-year-old boy from your school this time. I tried to call and you didn’t answer the phone. I was terrified it was you.” He squeezed Marco’s arm and ruffled his black curly hair. Then he collapsed onto the sofa.

Marco’s stomach churned. “Kidnapped? From my school? Oh no! I wonder who.”

“It’s terrible. That’s the third kidnapping this month. They say that foreigners and their families are being targeted.”

“At least half the guys in my class are foreigners. Could be any one of them.”

“Just last week Max Cureau, the journalist from my paper, was abducted right from his own home. We think it was by some Marxist guerrillas. He still hasn’t been located and the guerrillas have threatened that they’ll continue kidnapping journalists and their families if we don’t stop writing stories about them in the paper.” Marco’s father blew out a big sigh and wiped his wet brow with his handkerchief.

“If it’s so dangerous why don’t you stop writing those stories?” Marco asked.

“Because the stories are true. We can’t allow ourselves to be silenced by a few thugs.”His father went on, “The future of this country, of any country, still depends on freedom of the press. And now I have a lead on a really big story. This one’s about a local drug cartel and it’ll be coming out in the paper in the next few days.”

“But kidnapping kids.”Marco shook his head.He couldn’t stand the idea that one of his friends may have been grabbed from the streets. “Maybe I can find some news.” He turned back to the computer and searched for Buenaventura breaking news.

His father got up and poured himself a glass of water from the upturned bottle in its dispenser in the adjoining kitchen. He gulped down the water and watched the screen over Marco’s shoulder. Their black cat twirled himself around their legs, purring.

Marco’s father scooped him up. “So are you hungry now, Greco?” he asked, stroking the cat’s head.

The cat purred some more and licked his chin.

“Here it is.” Marco read the brief description. “‘Late developing news: This afternoon, a thirteen-year-old boy was abducted on his way home from Colegio Colombo Aleman. Details of the kidnapping, including the identity of the boy, have not yet been released.’ Man! That’s way too close. I’ll call Antonio. Maybe he has heard something.”

“Good idea,” his father said, sprinkling food into the cat’s dish. “Meanwhile, I’ll get supper started. It’s been a long day and I’m starving. Bet you are too.” He peeled off his rumpled jacket and went to rummage through the fridge. Marco punched in his friend’s number on the phone on the desk. The phone rang and rang until the message machine came on asking him to leave a message. It’s Marco,” he said. “Call me back.”

“No answer?” his father asked.

Marco shook his head. “So weird. Antonio said he was going straight home this afternoon after school to finish this geography project on North America. It’s due the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh blast!” His father was still poking through the fridge. “Not enough here to make a meal for a bird. No tomatoes. No peppers. No plantain. We’re even out of onions. I’ll have to go down to the market. You’d better come with me, Marco.”

“Do I have to? I need to get started on my project.”

“You can do that when we get back. I don’t want to leave you alone here in the apartment. Not now. Not with all the kidnappings happening so close by. In fact, I’m thinking about getting someone to stay with you after school until I get home from work.”

“A babysitter? No way, Papa. Thirteen-year-olds don’t need babysitters.”

“Think of it as a bodyguard. There’s just too much danger in the city these days to leave you alone. Just now when I came home, I saw some really rough-looking thugs hanging around outside our apartment building. I don’t like it.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You think so, eh? The political situation may be getting better in some parts of Colombia, but here on the westcoast with the drug wars, it’s getting crazier by the minute. Eight journalists have been kidnapped or killed already this year and it’s just August. Do you know that last year nine times more murders were committed in Buenaventura than in New York City? Now how’s that for a scary statistic?”

“Pretty bad,” Marco admitted.

“The government keeps trying to crack down, but the rebel army’s getting more and more desperate,” his father continued. “No telling what’s going to happen next. I wish Rolando Mendoza were still here. He had a lot of influence with the rebels.”

“Mr.Mendoza? The man you helped leave the country?”

“Yes. I asked our cousin in Vancouver to sponsor him last year. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard from him lately. If anyone could get the city out of this political mess, it’d be Rolando Mendoza. I’ll give him a call after supper tonight and see what he thinks. I’m sure he’ll have some ideas. Come on, let’s go. We won’t be long. You can help me carry the stuff.”He tossed Marco a shopping bag. Marco reluctantly shut down the computer. “Bye,Greco.”

He scratched the cat between his silky ears. The cat shut his eyes and purred. He was sleek and tidy, all black except for a white patch under his chin. Marco didn’t have time to change into jeans and a t-shirt. Buttoning up his white cotton school shirt, sliding on his sandals, and patting his pocket for his wallet, he followed his father out and down the stairs. Their footsteps echoed off the cement walls. He and his father usually used the stairs to go up and down the four flights unless they were in a hurry. It was part of their daily workout. His father dialed in the security code to open the metal outside door and it buzzed open. When they were outside, the heavy door clunked closed behind them. Marco pulled on it to make sure it was firmly locked. Once outside, he glanced around. A warm wave of stuffy air flowed over him. The sidewalk in front of the apartment steps was more crowded than usual, with people of all ages milling about. Maybe some festival was going on at the nearby church. Dusty streetlights had been turned on but the late afternoon light was dim and murky. The market was just a few blocks away so when they needed fresh fruit and vegetables, they usually walked there.

Marco shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and followed his father’s long shadow along the congested sidewalk, wishing he could be back up in their air-conditioned apartment.

A couple of men wearing red bandanas around their necks jostled against them, cursing. One of them caused Marco’s father to stumble and the man shouldered on without apologizing.

Another man, also wearing a red bandana, glared at Marco, narrowing his eyes. Creepy. What’s that all about? Marco wondered. The guy was a burly man with a thin face and bristly moustache. He thought he’d seen the man before but he couldn’t think where. Something was definitely familiar about him. He pushed past him and caught up with his father. “You all right, Papa?”

“I’m fine.” He brushed off his pant leg. “Let’s hurry. We want to get to the market before it shuts.”

As they threaded their way through the crowded streets, Marco stuck right beside his father. It was the end of the day, and some stalls were closing, although many people were still shopping or hanging around in bunches talking and laughing. Loud rock music blared from huge speakers set up on a stall selling CDs and DVDs.

As Marco followed his father past stalls piled with shoes and shirts and jeans and all other sorts of clothing, he felt people turn and stare at them.His papa, with his light brown hair and grey eyes, was obviously a gringo, a foreigner, a rare sight around this part of town. But since Marco looked more like his mother, with his curly hair and dark eyes, he didn’t stand out so much. Sometimes people didn’t even believe that James Graham was his father. It could actually be embarrassing.

At the end of the long row of tables was a food area with a stall selling sweet pastries bubbling in oil and, Marco’s favourite, freshly baked flat empanadas filled with cheese and peppers. The delicious smells made his mouth water and stomach growl with hunger.

Beside the pastry stall was a table of fruit and vegetables. Mounds of mangos, limes and pineapples, oranges and papaya and lulo, and anon and corozo were spread out on sacking along with stacks of squash, lettuce, carrots, onions, cucumbers, potatoes and cassava and an assortment of other egetables. Bunches of yellow bananas and long green plantain hung from hooks beside a table.

A plump woman in a big apron shouted in Spanish, “Papaya. My papaya—the best, and the best price. Four for the price of three.”

A short man beside her stall was selling small plastic cups of strong coffee, flavoured with cinnamon and sugar. A man was sipping a cup and staring straight at Marco. He was wearing a red bandana as well. Strange.

Marco moved closer to his father who’d stopped at the plump woman’s stall and had picked up a couple of large ripe tomatoes from the display.
“Pretty juicy looking tomatoes,” he said, nodding. “Be good for our salad tonight. What do you think, Marco?”

Marco flushed and turned away, trying to ignore him. He wished his father wouldn’t speak English to him in public. Especially in such a loud voice. It always drew even more attention.

His father usually spoke English to him. He said he wanted his son to grow up fluent in English. Marco would learn enough Spanish at school and from his friends, he said. And that was true. In fact, Marco could speak English just fine, although he was much more comfortable speaking Spanish so he could blend in with people around him.

Hearing his father grunt,Marco glanced back and gasped. Two husky men had grabbed his father’s arms and were pressing into his sides, trapping him. His eyes were wide with shock.

Both men were wearing red bandanas.

At their feet the ripe tomatoes had tumbled to the ground in a splattered mess.

Before he could rush to help his father, another man lunged over and seized Marco by the back of his shirt, wrenching it tight around his neck, choking him.
He was a short squat fellow. With a bristly moustache. The same creepy man he’d seen earlier in the street! Marco struggled to escape but the man’s grip was too tight. He swore in Marco’s ear and tried to heave him away. He smelled the stink of the man’s sweat and his hot beery breath.

He twisted around and yelled in the man’s face, “No!” He yanked back with all his strength, flailing out with hands and feet and knees.

“Run!” Marco’s father bellowed as the men dragged him away. “Run, Marco, run!”

Click here to close the book excerpt.

Also by Norma Charles:

Reviews

“Both timely and relevant, Marco’s story is told with the warmth and understanding we have come to expect from this popular author.”
— Beryl Young

“Run Marco, Run is a good adventure story for younger readers who are looking for more mature themes. While it presents some of the horrors that can occur in countries with high crime rates, it is done in a way that does not exploit, describe, or dramatize them.”
— Resource Links

“[Run Marco Run] will resonate with young people as well as older readers, and the themes of drug trafficking and immigration difficulties are timely and relevant. Norma Charles has written an enjoyable and important story that needs to be told.”
— CM Magazine

“This fast-paced book is about a 13-year-old Colombian boy and his unshakable determination to find his kidnapped father. . . . We are scared for him as he wanders alone, and disheartened when he is deceived by those he trusts. An exciting read.”
— Calgary Herald

Ghosts of the Pacific

ronsdale — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 22:08:33 +0000

Ghosts of the Pacific

by Philip Roy

$11.95

September 2011
ISBN 978-1-55380-130-6
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-136-8
5-1/4″ x 7-5/8″ Trade Paperback, 200 pages
Young Adult Novel

Ghosts of the Pacific, the fourth volume in the best-selling Submarine Outlaw series, begins with Alfred and his crew of Seaweed the seagull and Hollie the dog undertaking a harrowing journey through the icy gauntlet of the Northwest Passage on the way to the South Pacific.

Alfred wants to see those dark places of the earth where horrendous events have taken place. He sets his sights on exotic Micronesia — a beautiful place, but home to the nuclear testing of Bikini Lagoon; the Suicide Cliffs of Saipan; the airfields of Tinian, where the Enola Gay lifted off with the atomic bomb; and the Marshall Islands, which may conceal secrets to the mystery of Amelia Earhart’s final days.

Yet even with these past tragedies in mind, Alfred discovers that the world is facing an even greater threat today. As they sail into the hot, hazy world of the Pacific, they encounter the ruthless killing practices of shrimp trawlers and an island of plastic the size of Texas. Along the way, Alfred, Hollie and Seaweed befriend the crew of an environmental protection ship, who help to inspire him to take on a new goal: to protect the oceans of the world.

Philip Roy’s Submarine Outlaw Series:

Reviews and Awards

Runner-Up Young Adult Winner in the New England Book Festival!

Runaway Dreams

ronsdale — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 21:55:57 +0000

Runaway Dreams

by Richard Wagamese

$15.95

July 2011
ISBN 978-1-55380-129-0
ebook ISBN 978-1-55380-135-1
6″ x 9″ Trade Paperback, 138 pages
Poetry

Having developed an impressive reputation for his many novels and non-fiction works, Richard Wagamese now presents a collection of stunning poems ranging over a broad landscape. He begins with an immersion in the unforgettable world where “the ancient ones stand at your shoulder . . . making you a circle / containing everything.”

These are Medicine teachings told from the experience of one who lived and still lives them. He also describes his life on the road when he repeatedly ran away at an early age, and the beatings he received when the authorities tried “to beat the Indian right out of me.” Yet even in the most desperate situations, Wagamese shows us Canada as seen through the eyes and soul of a well-worn traveller, with his love of country, his love of people. Through it all, there are poems of love and music, the language sensuous and tender.

“In Runaway Dreams, Richard Wagamese astounds us with his poetic breadth and spiritual alertness. He is equally comfortable and impressive writing about nature, love, jazz, spirituality, or the brutality of residential schools.”
— Robert Hilles, Governor General Winner for Cantos from a Small Room

Click here to read an excerpt from The Canada Poem

The Canada Poem

VI
Looking out across the lake and seeing
how the mist seems to hold it all together
so that even the loon calls seem connected
to the side of the mountain standing
tall and proud as a chief
or a medicine woman
the forest dropping to the shore
like the fringes of buckskin the stone
of the cliff at the turn of the lake
a shining bead in the flare of the rising sun

it all comes together of its own accord
and all you can do is stand here
and take it in and hold it like a breath
you never want to exhale
these radiant shining moments
that have come to be the foundation
of your time here

when you think of this country now
it becomes as perfect as this vista
this lake and these mountains stunning
in the magnitude of the force of them
resting together on the power of detail

like when you watch your wife cutting
glass for the art she forms with a kiln
seeing how the minute bits of silica
fused together become something more
by virtue of the vision she has
of their wholeness

her story began on a convict ship bound
for the shores of Western Australia
and continued in the buying and the selling
of her great-grandmother on a Fremantle dock
a West Indian black whose face you see
in the line of her face when the light
catches it just so or the direct way
she has of looking at you telling you
with the strength of that level gaze
that the chains that bind her to the past
are forged from love and the knowledge
that her story, her life, is not just what
you see but the sum of its parts
like a lake shining at the foot of a mountain

your story began in a residential school
in northwestern Ontario where your family
was hung upon a cross of doctrine
that said to save the child they must
kill the Indian first — and did almost
except that you were born
in a canvas army tent in a trap-line camp
set beside the crooked water of the Winnipeg River
tucked in a cradleboard on a bed of spruce and cedar
hearing the Old Talk cooed and whispered
by the grandmother who could not save
you in the end from being
scooped away and taken to a white world
where the Indian was scraped away
and the rawness and the woundings
at your belly seeped and bled
their poisons into you for years

both of you adopted
removed
from the shelter of arms
that held you first
the story of you edited
by crude punctuation

and the journeys that you took from there
led you to extraordinary places of dark
and light and all shades in between
the acts of discovery and reclamation
adding to the image you hold now
both of you willing to tell it to each other
so that you know that what makes you stronger
is the coming together of those stories
the union of your lives the harmony that happens
when the weave of things is allowed to blend
all on its own accord
a confluence of energy and spirit
that the Old Ones say occurs without any help from us
the detail of things defined by Creator’s purpose
and fused together into wholeness
like a lake shining at the foot of a mountain

so you look across this stretch of Canada
and it’s as if you can feel the whole of it
shimmer beneath your feet like the locomotive
thunder of a hundred thousand hooves of buffalo
charging into history
or the skin of a great drum beating
carried in the feet of young men dancing
grasses flat for the gathering of people
come to celebrate the sun
and the wind that blows across the water
becomes the same wind that blew across
the gritty, dusty faces of settler folk freed
from the yoke of Europe the tribe of them
following the creak of wagon wheels
forward into a history shared
by diverse peoples with wondrous stories
told around fires
that kept them sheltered from the night

so maybe this is what it comes to mean
this word, this name, this Kanata
the Huron word for village that has
come to mean “our home”
maybe in the end it’s a word for one fire
burning where a circle of people gathers
to hear the stories that define them

Click here to close the book excerpt.

Reviews

“The poems in Runaway are introspective but not self-absorbed, intimate, nature imbued, respectful and reverent.” — BC Bookworld

“If I had to make a comparision, I would consider Wagamese, with his opposition to the prevailing culture of our time, in line with Allen Ginsberg, with a mission to uphold the ‘beaten down’ and oppressed of society. To some extent, Wagamese is incomparable because of his unique talent and singular frame of reference.” — Anne Burke, The Prairie Journal

“His style is free. It resembles prose and thought – the runaway thinking of us all.” — Joyce Atcheson, Anishinabek News