Globe and Mail piece

So, I'm in the Globe! It's a fairly extensive profile, by Julie Traves, in the Review section (page # varies by region).

Needless to say I'm feeling extremely pleased this morning. I just tried nipping out to the dep, but it was closed unil 9am. Dilemma: do I buy all the copies of the Globe at a given store, in a spending spree of vanity, or do I let them be bought by the regular patrons and thus spread my kleos in Dartmouth?

Update: Finally managed to find a copy (3 copies) of the Globe, and have scanned in the photo you see above, which isn't available online. It's the work of Mr. Brian Atkinson, a talented photographer and heck of a nice guy; he told me he's about to travel to southern Africa these next few weeks, in keeping with his international career.

Halifax school shows

[me with Mr. D. Smith and Mr. B. Khan, teachers at Halifax West High School, yesterday after the fifth performance. Like many a teacher along the Tour, these gentleman gave us a warm welcome]

Two more schools today, Prince Andrew High School and Caledonia Junior High: one show each. Good students, I must say; probably 60 between them. Seven shows in two days! I'm fairly beat, but in good spirits. I think Tour's end and poet's end may coincide.

Seriously, though, they were good shows. Lately I sometimes lose track of what I'm saying, without missing a beat or losing any degree of expression; is this what it's like for Shakespeare actors at one of those ten-year runs of The Taming of the Shrew? What a cushy life!

A couple of notes: halfway through the performance at Prince Andrew today, the PA system (ironically enough) interrupted to make an announcement, and straight away you could see the students rubbing their eyes and coming awake, literally as though they had been dreaming. (I don't usually get to see this, as I bow my head modestly during the applause at the end of shows.) It took a special effort to get them back in the game after that -- it happened just at the death of Wolfe -- but most interestingly I myself was thrown off a bit, not on delivery or memory but on my train of thought: I repeated two key lines without realising it! They were:

But as he spoke, a man rode up : a trusty friend and aide-de-camp
He cried, "They run, my lord! They run! : The French, they flee in headlong rout!"
But red-haired Wolfe just closed his eyes : and with a groan he answered thus
But as he spoke, a man rode up : a trusty friend and aide-de-camp
He cried, "They run, my lord! They run! : The French, they flee in headlong rout!"

You can see that only someone who had been mentally discombobulated could make this kind of error (a sort of aural homoioarcton).

We are looking forward to scoping out the venue for tomorrow's show, St. Paul's Anglican Church in downtown Halifax, before the performance at 7pm. While we're doing that, we shall also visit the site of the first ever performance of The Plains of Abraham, the Halifax docks, where on a bright brisk day in June 2000 I set up shop between two talented Cape Breton fiddler buskers and hoped for an audience. I didn't yet have the big white "Epic Poem" sign featured a few posts ago (I only got it in Sudbury); rather, I had fashioned a very primitive sign out of two brown paper placemats I had stolen from a nearby fish-'n'-chips restaurant. I still have them somewhere.

Tomorrow there should be a piece about me in The Globe and Mail. Needless to say, I will blog it immediately.

Ongoing octametric coverage

Okay, this is frivolous, but I doubt anyone else is providing up-to-the-minute octametric coverage?

So then, behold, the House of Commons : that most glorious institute
Where never member squawked : in days long gone : nor hooted like a bird
Upon the nineteenth day of May : convened upon the lonely Hill
And many were the squabbling parties : bickering amongst themselves
And they were four, the NDP : the partisans of Douglas' name
And Layton was their glorious leader : bearer of a bold moustache
The Tories too were there : an ancient group : the party of Sir John
The great Sir John, a mighty man : who liked a scotch in th' afternoon
And when the sun was sinking back : and falling to the Western sea
And when at morn there rose : towards the east : the soft pink palm of dawn
And they were led by Stephen Harper : sombre in his sombre suit
And then the fearsome Bloc : which led the charge : to ruin Canada
When once upon a time : Lucien Bouchard : the single-legged man
Had founded them, in ancient days : amid the smoke and blood of Meech
And they were led by Gilles Duceppe : the Maoist of steely gaze
And last of all the Liberal Party : legacy of Jean Chretien
The Government indeed : for many years : yet shorn of power now
For when the votes were counted last : they had but a minority
And Martin was their glorious leader : patient through the empty years
So now when all had found their places : there upon the lonely Hill
So then, behold, the Speaker rose : and opened the profound debate
And first of all he named the member :

. . . will be updating this as soon as somebody says anything interesting on Cpac.

---

Update. So, the NDP amendment passed, Cadman voted with the Government, and the Newfoundland Tories were spared their decision.

Such was the excitement, however, that I feel rather burnt out; also, I wonder if octameter is really the right metrical genre for covering these things. Something Aeolic, perhaps, would better convey the sensation of Cadman's rising for Yea. And lyric has no place on this blog.

One last outburst: Obviously the Tories are now in a serious bind. They've pledged to let the Government govern after this, so barring some unforeseen development (and how rare those are these days) they can't, politically speaking, table a confidence motion. But what do they do if the Bloc irritably tries for their own confidence motion? Do they vote that they have confidence in the Government?

Lastly, Dave raises the interesting question of what would happen if the NDP amendment came up for third reading (this was, I believe, the first reading -- or was it the second? No, the first). The Speaker, as he made very clear in casting his tiebreaker today, votes to continue debate; he does not vote to accomplish anything. What then would he do in the case of a third reading? A vote with the Government in that case would be a vote to approve the amendment, ending further discussion. (Update: a constitutional expert informs us that the proper course is for the Speaker not to vote to defeat the Government, as makes sense.)

Epic budget vote

[Kilgour & Cadman]

Just got back from the 5x30-40 minute show stint at Halifax West High School -- c. 175 students in the audience in toto today. I would be absolutely shattered, but for better or for worse I'm glued to the TV (Cpac and Newsworld). Dave just stepped in the door with rootbeer, beernuts, and 5 Alive: this could be a long haul.

My foreign readers will need some explanation. Basically, the minority government of the Liberals is being challenged on its budget. Budget votes are "confidence votes," which a government must win or else resign (go to an election immediately). The governing Liberals have forged a shaky alliance with the socialist party (NDP), at the price of a budget amendment which sends more money in the direction of social spending. Opposed to them are the official opposition, the Tories, supported by the separatist Bloc Quebecois; both are keen to bring down the government because the Liberals are suffering heavily under the scrutiny of the Gomery Inquiry into Liberal corruption in Quebec. As of Monday, the Liberals and NDP together had 150 votes; the Tories and Bloc had 153 votes; there were three independents.

Sensationally, however, on Tuesday the fair Belinda Stronach, political newcomer but apparently fearless political virago, "crossed the floor" from the Tories to the Liberals (she received a mid-level Cabinet seat), ditching not only her party but also her boyfriend, the Tory Deputy Leader. This means it's all tied up, because the Liberals have one of the independents (who had been kicked out of their caucus for being anti-American):152 pro-budget, 152 against, with only two independents -- David Kilgour of Alberta (a former Liberal) and Chuck Cadman of BC (a former Tory) between them deciding whether the budget will stand or fall, and whether we will get an election pronto (or not). Of course, there are a number of wildcards, including whether various MP's will show up to vote, be hauled to hospital (as happened yesterday), etc. etc.

Update: David Kilgour has just announced he will vote against the NDP budget amendment (though apparently in favour of the Liberal budget itself). Chuck Cadman . . . I very much doubt he will back the government after l'affaire Stronach. I would be amazed, myself.

The Tory MP's from Newfoundland. It's all about the Tory MP's from Newfoundland. You read it here eighth.

Actual epic note: I tried the experiment of using the "song tones" / quasi-chanting manner of delivery with some audiences and not others; and the palm certainly goes to the song tones, which undoubtedly enhance audience focus and concentration for the whole poem. I had suspected this was the case, but it's reassuring to have made this empirical comparison. I should blog more on this, but I simply must get back to Cpac. (How many times have you heard that in your life, I wonder?)

Halifax reached

We have reached the great city of Halifax (or rather Dartmouth . . . if I crane my neck from the hotel balcony I can sort of see Halifax). A very pleasant ferry ride into Digby, NS, this afternoon over calmest seas. Dave fell asleep reading about the Spanish Civil War (he informs me that 1930's Spain makes 14th century France look like kindergarten), so I took the opportunity to smash the Ms. Pac-Man record at the ferry arcade (pushing it to 420289). Unbeknownst to most, I retain awesome Pac-Man skills from days long gone. Unfortunately, the game is so primitive (c.1981; of course, I was only 4 when it came out) that it doesn't let you input your initials. I can only hope some hapless ferry employee will come in tomorrow morning and find his precious record blasphemed. Only he will know.

I see that the Ottawa performance was written up in Embassy Magazine (11 May), read by the diplomatic community in Ottawa. Perhaps, even as I type, a cultural attaché is drafting a note to the Swedish Academy:

Ottawa native Jack Mitchell is reviving epic poetry for Canada. Drawing from the classical Greek tradition of the epic, Mr. Mitchell, currently a Ph.D. candidate at California's Stanford University, blends his love of the classics with his pride of Canadian history into a 50 minute epic poem performance delivered in verse recounting the 1759 Battle of the Plains of Abraham, which took place in Quebec City with the English defeating the French as part of a series of battles for control of North America. Mr. Mitchell was in Ottawa May 8 and 9 performing his epic poem, the sixth of eleven stops on a cross-Canada tour, sponsored by the Dominion Institute. Now Canadian history's Gen. James Wolfe and Marquis Louis-Joseph de Montcalm have all the glory and heroism associated with Homer's Achilles and Hector at the Siege of Troy.

We must run to get food, we are famished. Tomorrow is a big day: I'll be performing at least 5 (perhaps as many as 8) times at Halifax West High School. This may smash the endurance epic record set at York Street Elementary on May 9th: was that Ms. Pac-Man game an omen?

Saint John Miscellany

[me in Sault Ste. Marie during the 2000 Tour; this was the sign I used to attract audiences. I had a taste for loud shirts in them days]

Well, it's certainly been an interesting day in Canadian politics, by golly. I've finished the Barbara Tuchman book about the 14th century, though, so nothing fazes me anymore. No one has even been poisoned yet.

In other news, I just noticed that www.plainsofabraham.ca has been moving up the Google rankings. It's #1 under "plainsofabraham" (displacing www.plainsofabraham.com, the American rock band's site), and #9 under "plains of abraham" (following, in order, someone's pictures of their trip to the battlefield; the Battlefields Park site; the CBC People's History TV segment; wikipedia; and two history-oriented sites). As Google rankings pretty much dictate the divine will by now, this is nice to see.

(Update: #1 for "plains" & "epic"; #1 for "abraham" & "epic"; a dedicated link to the site at #3 for "epic" & "canadian." Not even in the Top 10 for "epic" & "performance," however.)

Speaking of random Google searches, I noticed some rather striking, Ani DeFranco-esque lyrics to a song titled "Plains of Abraham." Yet more proof of the strikingly Biblical resonance of the battlefield's name; it goes to show that once a phrase gets out into the popular consciousness it will be reinterpreted. What, one wonders, is the imagined relationship between plains and Abraham? Caanan is not, to my shoddy recollection, described as flat. In my mind, Abraham is associated with mountains. Does he walk across plains to get to the mountain? I can't find anything about that in Genesis, though Cecil B. DeMille would certainly have insisted on it.

The true story of how the Plains of Abraham (Canadian version) got their name is that they were named after Abraham Martin, called "The Scot." (This Abraham was a pilot; piloting was a very international profession at the time.) He apparently settled inland from the shore upriver from Cap Diamant; the Heights along the shore were thus called, logically enough, the "Heights of Abraham," while the plateau at their top was called the "Plains of Abraham." Curiously enough, the battle is still known as the "Battle of the Heights of Abraham" to the British. Even though this phrase would seem to correspond more adroitly with the Patriarch's story, it seems that the word "plains" carries a much more biblical resonance in and of itself than does the word "heights" (which has all but disappeared in contemporary speech except in the "fear of heights").

People sure are friendly in the Maritimes. There I was today, driving like mad to reach a rendezvous with a Globe and Mail photographer at Fort Howe downtown and faced with an unexpected toll bridge across the bay; and not a single coin on me, or anywhere in the car. (I know; I searched madly while actually parked in the toll lane at the machine.) And what happens, of course, but the big pickup behind me starts honking its horn and blinking its lights, and the thought is crossing my mind that I'm about to be scaled, when lo & behold the guy walks up to my car and hands me the coins for the toll with a smile. Perhaps this is a regular occurance here, or indicative of something or other, but for someone used to the take-no-prisoners highway ethos of California, it was deeply unsettling.

Tomorrow morning, we take the ferry to Digby, NS. My memory of it from last Tour is less than 100% cheerful: I had camped in the Annapolis valley somewhere or other, in the pouring rain, and was profoundly damp all the following day, crossing in the other direction to Saint John.

Route up to Saint John (map link)

Here's an updated map of our route so far. We've come 9 052 kilometers, or 5,624 miles. The car is in great shape, but I must say one looks ahead to the Newfoundland portion of the Trans-Canada with something approaching dismay (or so one would if one hadn't heard of the spectacular scenery there and the fine city at journey's end -- neither Dave nor I have ever been to the Rock before, and we are psyched in that regard).

Route up to Saint John.gif

Once again, your browser will probably shrink the map to fit it; click on the image to zoom in.

I'm to be interviewed again tomorrow, this time for Radio-Canada's Atlantic radio; and will be photographed here for the Globe and Mail piece. I believe both will appear on Saturday.

Religion in the poem

Having just returned from the Saint John show, where I performed in St. Paul's Parish Centre (adjacent to the church itself), I thought I'd briefly comment on the role of religion in the poem, and the audience's view of it.

First of all, though there is a bit of religious background in the poem, it couldn't remotely qualify as a religious poem. Religion is basically confined to the following points:

• when Wolfe's soldiers burn a church ("Ste. Anne's inviolable temple") and kill its priest, the latter's "dying cry" for vengeance is responsible Wolfe's sickness
• Wolfe's dream mentions that "the angels and the saints" now refer to the Plains of Abraham as "the Fields of Grief"
• in some performances, "gentle sleep" is shed by "some demon" on the sentries' eyes at L'Anse-au-Foulon
• whenever the Ursulines appear, they're described as having vowed to be "the brides of Christ"
• occasionally a priest says Mass, in which case the following 2-line formula is deployed:

And there the holy priest : with silent step : brought forth the bread and wine
In pious sacrifice to God : the vessels of the Word made flesh

• The mother of the Ursulines at one point prays to the Virgin, and in response the Virgin is explicitly said to weep (resulting in "mistiness and fog" on earth)
• they bury Montcalm in the chapel of the Ursulines, which is described as "the holy place of Christ" a couple of times
• various references throughout (in lines of 3-part metrical shape) to "Heaven's power"
  

It will be seen that these "religious" points basically add period detail: everything is implicitly "focalised" (perceived from a character's point of view), perhaps through the habitants, as in this couplet:

And soon they reached the holy chapel : where the painted altar stood
Before the English soldiers came : across the cold Atlantic sea

and this applies even to the Virgin's tears as rain on the battlefield. Also, everything is quite vague. In this, I follow Homer, whose religious material is Panhellenic in scope, incorporating no local peculiarities and consequently representing a Greek religion that is, as it were, slightly out of focus. In my poem, I'm vague precisely so as to maintain that inclusive point of view.

(Sometimes, indeed, I am apparently too vague -- or too Homeric. All the way across the Prairies, Dave, who has never tried to pass for a theologian, kept discreetly mentioning that one line, in the mouth of the mother of the Ursulines no less, was perhaps rather theologically incorrect:

And none was yet to woman born : who tasted of eternal life

Being stubborn, I tried to defend this, but ultimately there's no denying that this idea doesn't sound authentic. So I dropped it for a while, though I'm now saying "Few were yet to woman born" etc., which I think is OK.)

To return: could one compose a poem whose action takes place in New France and not mention religion? I doubt it. Yet it remains a tricky subject. Partly, there are a lot of secular people around who just get a bad taste in their mouths at mention of the word "God" -- as do a lot of religious people. (A secular person myself, I think such a reaction is foolish -- an inherited peasant superstition if there ever was one.) Partly also, "religious" people nowadays don't know how to react to my injection of the fairly Gothic, quasi-medieval 18th-century Catholic point of view, the Christian religion being basically unrecognisable these days (very Jesus-oriented, I find, even apud Catholicos). A couple of times, older women have sheepishly blessed me after the show.

Overall, though -- and this is the important thing -- nobody minds the presence of religion in the poem; the worst reaction I've had was at a Catholic school, where the students temporarily lost interest at the first appearance of the holy priest's silent step (neither he nor the Ursulines reappeared that performance). No one mistakes me for an 18th-century Catholic; no one accuses me of propagating some heresy. I attribute this excellent response to the ability of epic to present potentially divisive things -- first and foremost the English-French rivalry, but also religion -- in an elevated manner, separate from reality and therefore detached from the real purpose of the poem, which is historical.

This is fortunate for me, because while I've had to eliminate almost all supernatural elements from and can't get away with having Olympians charging to and fro across the battlefield (much less debating the plot chez Zeus), I seriously wonder how else I could achieve the instant long-term perspective you get by invoking things like Fate, Heaven's power, etc. I would have to digress every time in order to achieve that, using five lines where I can (as things stand) use half a line or less -- thanks to the shorthand we call religion.

Saint John reached

[Me in front of the Longest Covered Bridge in the World, in Hartland, NB]

So, we have reached Saint John, NB! This is officially our fifth time zone (after BC, Alta/Sask, Man, Ont/QC). If I could smell anything, I would probably smell the unresting sea.

[Besides driving heroically, Dave elected to make an extraordinary fashion statement today]

It was a long road: 12 hours door to door, probably our longest of the Tour. The cold has hit me full force; Dave magnanimously took the lion's share of the driving, and moreover during my stint he read aloud from Barbara Tuchman history of the 14th century. But I am dosing myself with OJ, and frankly a bit of stuffiness rather pales in comparison to the Black Death.

[Dave getting footage of sunset over the St. John River]

As to performance tomorrow, I am hoping for the best. Many times I've noticed that my use of "song tones" in the performance of the poem (which gives each line a melodic contour, emphasising meaning and metrical structure) has the additional benefit of allowing me to project my voice no matter what shape my throat is in (and it is often fairly wrecked at the end of an hour-long show). Hopefully this will also deal with any sinus issue tomorrow evening.

[Onstage in front of the Regimental Colour of the 78th Frasers yesterday. Who could guess I was about to keel over?]

Re: feeling wrecked, I must say that it's a great pleasure, after the show, to answer questions from the audience about the poem and the Seven Years War, which I always do; and to chat with people after that. But I often find that by then my mouth is simply no longer working! My cheeks seem to go flabby, and the tongue does not obey the brain. No complaints, of course! Perhaps this only strengthens a listener's impression of "divine frenzy" on my part: surely someone as inarticulate as this could not have delivered the poem we just heard? Ah, but yes, the power of the Muse! The Muse, my dear! In fact, post recitationem omnis poeta tristis est.

PofA implicated in commandites?

[a modern peavey; ours is much older, much badder]

Before we hit the road in a few minutes, driving the length of the St. Lawrence in Quebec, I wish as a matter of prudence to make two announcements:

a) we happened to pick up a peavey in an old junk shop here on Thursday. For those who do not know the peavey, it's a logging tool: you put the log between the claw and the main stick, and the claw automatically grips the log as you pull. It is essentially the most brutal instrument Medieval Germany never invented.

b) the report in La Presse is perhaps less alarming than it might seem. The truth is, the poem did not even exist in 1998, and in any case I have submitted multiple drafts of earlier versions of the poem to the Gomery Inquiry. But I felt particular consternation, as I stopped for a beer in St. Henri on Tuesday (prior to being photographed by Christian Fleury), to read sentences like these:

Dans son témoignage devant la commission Gomery, le 17 mars dernier, Bernard Thiboutot, fondateur de Commando Communications, avait souligné avoir embauché quelques firmes de consultants en 1998 pour une stratégie de mise en valeur des plaines d'Abraham.

. . . .

Or, a révélé M. Bastien il y a quelques jours, le mandat de 10 000 $ accordé par M. Thiboutot n'avait rien à voir avec les plaines d'Abraham.

. . . .

«Je n'ai jamais fait de contrat pour les plaines d'Abraham. M. Thiboutot m'avait appelé pour avoir des fiches d'information sur les régions du Québec», a précisé M. Bastien, qui est actuellement chef de cabinet du ministre de la Justice Yvon Marcoux.

In other words, with the populace as peevish as it is these days, it never hurts to own one's own peavey.

Farewell to Montreal (catch-up)

Farewell to . . . ? What the . . . ?

Yes, we are about to leave Montreal tomorrow morning, heading to Saint John, NB. I just took a Tylenol PM, so I may fall headfirst on the keys before this post is done; but let's back it up a little.

We left Toronto feeling great, after the successful performance at Fort York described below. Never did the road from Toronto to Ottawa -- well known to both Dave and me since we could drive -- seem shorter! It was a happy homecoming. On Sunday we had the Ottawa performance, in the afternoon at the theatre in the Public Library.

[taking questions after the Ottawa show]

The show went quite well indeed, I may say: a good-sized audience of 55, and I was pumped up. Not only was the show on Mother's Day (with our dear mother in attendance), but it was also the 60th anniversary of VE Day. Very nice to see many friends in the audience; Christina Leadlay took a number of pictures of the show, and will be writing it up in Embassy magazine.

A minor note on VE coverage these last two weeks: while often very moving, the various specials on TV could have used a bit more hard fact, IMHO. It is extremely important that we remember our soldiers' sacrifices, but somehow the purpose of the sacrifice was always glossed as "defending freedom," "liberating Europe," etc. This is quite true, but the sacrifices were also for things like: taking the last bridge; cutting the German resupply line; securing the hilltop; etc. Perhaps TV commentators think this sort of thing is boring or somehow requires more knowledge on the part of viewers than they possess; but that's a self-fulfilling logic if there ever was one. I get the impression that the Canadian army never once doubted that it was freeing Holland from brutal tyranny, and that this idea was always a sustaining factor through those last few months; but that idea is easily grasped today. What is more difficult for us, in our peaceful era, to imagine is that a man could be blown to smithereens with the single idea on his mind that he would shortly have to advance across a small field and find cover in the next hedge. Or that this was the last machine-gun nest his company would have to clear out that day. Or what have you. But this is not an opinion blog, so I move on.

Ah yes, Ottawa. Having spent a good deal of time praising other cities, I deserve a few sentences on my hometown. How perfectly Ottawa in the summer expresses my idea of the good life! The cafes are full of people; the food is affordable but well cooked; the conversation is heavily political (as it was in Athens, Rome, 17th century London); no one spends any time whining at the federal government. People are bilingual; no one flinches when you resort to a French expression. It is taken for granted that relaxed civilisation is the foundation of true friendship.

Okay, back to the diary. This Monday I had my only Ottawa school visit, at York Street Elementary -- just a few blocks from our house there. Though it was only one school, I performed it six times in one day: twice in the morning and four times straight in the afternoon (with just enough time to glut my thirst between classrooms). I'm not sure this is the most effective economy of performance, but I was glad I made it; admittedly, the shows were only 20-25 minutes long. Still, by way of endurance epic, this must be some kind of record.

That evening, after a nice farewell dinner at Chez Lucien (terrific pub, I must say), I drove to Montreal; Dave stayed for a couple days as he had a couple eye-doctor appointments to take care of (he had the laser eye surgery a couple of months ago). Rolled onto the Island with "White Rabbit" playing off the iPod; some David Bowie, too, IIRC. How strange to be passing in the car, and visiting on foot, all these places I know so well after so long being unfamiliar with my surroundings!

Yes, we have no passed the 1 month mark in terms of the Tour -- yesterday, in fact. Should have blogged it, but I'm staving off a cold (whence the Tylenol PM; it hasn't kicked in yet). I had two school shows here, on Tuesday at Options II High School in St. Henri, and then on Wednesday at Lower Canada College in NDG. They both went quite well, though I kept to 30 minutes for both. Once again, it was shown that socio-economic status has absolutely zero to do with aesthetic response to epic poetry; not that the LCC students were less interested than the Options II students, but I become more and more aware that Plato was entirely right about the ethical bond between performer and audience. And philosophical ethics of this sort are non-cultural.

Well, maybe the Tylenol is kicking in after all.

[music, passion, and Portuguese soccer are always in fashion here]

In summa: I visited the Copacabana bar on the Main, that perfect establishment, on Tuesday, seeing my old friends Michel and Quinlan, and supped chez Q the following night. All my old friends here now have beautiful and accomplished francophone girlfriends. Dave got in that night too, and we had a pleasant day off yesterday. Woohoo! He is reading about the Spanish Civil War; in between bouts with the ancient Homerist named Aristonicus, I'm reading Barbara Tuchman's A Distant Mirror, about the end of the Middle Ages. Much recommended. We've had such pleasure just walking around; the weather has generally been wonderful here (26 on Wednesday), releasing legions of Montreal women onto the streets after a long winter. One formulates a new theory about their collective beauty every time one comes here.

Tonight was the public show in Montreal, at the Stewart Museum on Ile Ste.-Helene (specifically in the Large Powder Arsenal). It went quite well: I started weakly, without much passion, but by the time I reached the deaths of the two characters I was doing my best impersonations yet by quite a bit. It's curious how the feeling of imminent doom prior to performance is crucial. This was the epicentre of Fraser Highlander activity in North America, site of the original garrison: Bruce Bolton of the Stewart Museum was most welcoming and helpful, and I got to meet the OC, a fine gentleman just back from Holland: he had been at Juno Beach. My great aunt Jean was also there.

I have a lot more to write, but I can feel the medicine spreading past my kneecaps. Or is that the effect of reading too much Minority Government Gossip in the papers? Dave and I are working up a Star Wars: Episode III allegory for it all; we note that holding the budget vote on May 19th, which just so happens to be the release date of the final movie, may be the most underhanded parliamentary ploy yet.

Toronto show - du succes

[view from our Toronto hotel room]

I am just about to leave for Montreal, as there's a school show there tomorrow morning. But how could I fail to try and describe the last few days?

The performance at Fort York, on Friday in Toronto, was (if I may say) a huge success. A correspondent mentioned a while back that I seem to say that of most shows; but there's a logical explanation which doesn't involve self-boosterism. Basically, our standards are rising! At the beginning of the Tour, a successful performance involved few missed lines, an attentive audience, no technical breakdown, and sincere applause. Nowadays, it means flawless meter, spellbound listeners, complete video and sound, and a sustained ovatio. That, modesty completely aside, does describe the Toronto public performance.

[Getting ready for the Toronto show]

In fact, the audience was particularly appreciative -- which meant all the more in light of its constitution. The whole of the "Epic Tour Team" was there, for starters: Annie Forget, Alison Faulknor, and Rudyard Griffiths (as well as Dave and myself, of course); Prof. Jonathan Burgess, eminent Homer scholar, and Prof. Alison Keith, both of U of T Classics; numerous luminaries of the Toronto literary scene; my cousin Madeleine and her family; many old friends of mine; a number of Fraser Highlanders of the York Garrison (including Mjr. John Stirling, OC, who gave a great historical introduction).

[Mjr John Stirling introducing the poem, prior to the introduction by Rudyard Griffiths]

The audience size was quite large, for word had been spread by print and radio: about 65 in the audience, bringing the total number of listeners at public shows over the 200 mark. The venue was acoustically perfect: though I was wearing two wireless mics (one for the documentary video, one for the CityTV camera, which was recording the show), I was performing in my natural voice, and the Highlanders at the back heard every word.

[Performing at Fort York; in back row are Highlanders; CityTV cameraman at rear]

They later gave an impressive display of musketry outside, loading and firing authentic Brown Bess muskets; one remarked that he could fire 3 rounds a minute, which is excellent even by 18th century standards. They let me fire a round; what a huge explosion those things make! I have to admit I blinked hard when it went off. One old friend of mine, Madhava Enros - a talented photographer - took some fine pictures of the event, posted and described on his elegant blog. You can see me about to fire the musket in one of the shots!

Ah yes, I was interviewed by CityTV for the Books program, which should be airing soon; I sat atop one of the walls of Fort York with the CN Tower in the background.

[Sitting atop the wall being interviewed for CityTV]

I had meant to include in this post a description of the Ottawa shows -- the public one was a big hit, the school shows today were intense, 6 in one day! -- but we are about to head off to a farewell dinner with our dear parents. (It was particularly great to do the public performance here yesterday on Mother's Day, with my mother in the audience; and on VE Day, with commemoration in the air.) Farewell -- because I head off to Montreal tonight! Yes indeed, the pace is intense; Ion had nothing on me.

2 more radio interviews

Am about to post a description of the last few days, but I thought I'd throw in a couple of audio files: these are two interviews which just aired over the last 48 hours. The audio quality is not quite 100%, as Dave was recording them off the car radio en route to various places, with his mp3 player. (We will write away for official CBC tapes at some point.)

The first is a segment from that wonderfully creative radio program Bunny Watson, hosted by Bill Richardson. I talked to Bill in Vancouver as the tour was beginning (on the first day, in fact). This aired on Saturday at 7pm and on Sunday at 4pm on CBC (Radios 1 and 2 respectively). The episode was about itinerant performers: I am by no means the only travelling artist on the Trans-Canada this spring!

Bunny Watson Interview.mp3

The second was done live this afternoon on the local Eastern Ontario CBC afternoon program All in a Day, hosted by Brent Bambury. What a great guy. You'll see(/hear) that I've gotten a bit more at ease with studio speech during the last month!

All in a Day Interview.mp3

We did not, unfortunately, manage to tape the interview in French which aired on Friday in Toronto, on Les arts et les autres, where I talked to Alain Godbout. Listeners have told me I sounded quite good, but who believes them? Where, one wonders, is the digital proof? We shall hopefully get our hands on an official CBC tape soon; meanwhile, I may have another interview en francais coming up in Monckton, NB.

Must blog but cannot

Am too short of time to blog properly -- about the great success of the Toronto show, the happy homecoming in Ottawa -- but will do so soon; the Ottawa show starts in just an hour and half! We are out the door. The Bunny Watson show in which I feature was aired yesterday at 7pm, and will be on the air again today at 4pm EST. (There should be a streaming audio link at the show site, if you're interested in listening in!). I was also interviewed for TV in TO, and will try to put that up when it appears. Must run!

Radio interview: CBC Toronto

Here's a sound file featuring the interview I gave on Tuesday to CBC's Here and Now, the afternoon show for southern Ontario; the host was Marichka Melnyk:

Here and Now Interview.mp3

I rather wonder how many people this will bring out to the show at Fort York tomorrow. We stopped by today to see the venue: quite a spacious hall, and hopefully large enough for the big crowd I anticipate! I've been sleeping up, so I should be in top form tomorrow evening.

Am working on a transcript of the St. John's High School show, to bring out how it differs from the "canonical" version; this is a bit slow-going, but I hope to have it up soon.

A relatively lazy day today. I spent blissful hours watching Gomery gossip on CBC Newsworld. Before Canadian readers of this blog, having absorbed that last sentence, call 9-1-1 on my behalf, I should add that I really consider it Fate's little gift to me that I should happen to be touring the country at a moment of national political crisis. Sure, I'm competing with the likes of Chuck Guite for front page coverage, but I get to see how each region responds to sustained dysfunctionality. My general conclusion: the country that plaints together stays together.

And then there are the moments of sheer bear-baiting excitement, like Question Period yesterday. In contrast to all other segments I've seen for, oh, about ten years, there were lots of apropros questions, posed passionately from the opposition side and answered with Gladstonian dignity by the Government. Layton was quite suave, indeed as airbrushed as ever; the PM looked primeministerial. My own MP, Mauril Belanger of Ottawa Centre, answered a question well, though he seems to have bought a huge 70's toupee since last election flyer. Scott Brison is looking more and more like a minor Father of Confederation. The highlight was Rahim Jaffer's departure from the script when he was ragging on Joe Volpe: you could see him getting more and more worked up as he read from his prepared question until at last, rapt in rhetorical rage, he couldn't focus on the printed page and instead just went with it -- "or will the Prime Minister fire this embarassment to Canadians?" He was on all the newscasts, too: MPs should take the lesson and quit reading their questions. It looks terrible. Not as bad as schoolboy heckling from the back benches, that disgraceful practice, but terrible nonetheless.

Deixis

I've been using more deixis in performance. I hadn't meant to, but it's crept in.

Deixis literally means "pointing" (deiknumi, to point or show). It's a linguistic term which describes the way in which language can "point to" the here&now, usually with words like "this," "that," etc. For instance, "The tree is green" is a sentence not marked by deixis, while "That there tree is green" or "Yonder mountain-top" are marked by deixis, because "That there" and "Yonder" only take their meaning with reference to the moment of utterance.

I first heard about deixis from the esteemed Egbert Bakker, now of Yale, when I studied with him as an undergrad in Montreal. As Bakker has emphasised, deixis is important for Homeric poetics becuase a poetry of performance melds the present instant (of the performer performing) and the past (of the story told). So when epic talks about "this here chariot" or what have you, it uses a type of linguistic marking (namely deixis) normally restricted to the here&now, but it applies that here&now marker to something which would normally be distant, namely the heroic past. Thus the heroic past becomes the here&now, for the duration of performance.

Well, on stage of late I've had recourse to deixis quite often. Instead of saying "the soldiers clad in red" for instance, I would say "those soldiers clad in red" or even "these soldiers clad in red." The effect on the audience is quite different: with "the" they are merely hearing another detail of the story; with "those" they are themselves referring a new detail to something they've already heard, and this knits the tale together in their minds, reassuring them that there is a continuity between what they've already heard, what they're hearing, and what (presumably) they are going to hear. This is particularly useful for ring composition, where the poem departs from the main story-line for a few verses and then returns to it, usually to accomodate brief description: by using deixis at the end of these little ring compositions, I signal to the audience that we have returned to something they already know. An example:

So there, behold, upon the left : he passed the holy nunnery
The sacred order of the nuns : as ancient as the citadel
The sisters Ursuline : who made the vow : to be the brides of Christ
So there, behold, upon his left : stood thirty ladies clothed in black
Those sisters Ursuline : who made that vow : to be the brides of Christ
And then the Marquis of Montcalm : perceived those holy women there
And straightaway he turned his steed : and reached that holy nunnery

Ah, the joys, such were the joys, of deixis!

Route so far (updated)

Here's a map of our route so far, up to Toronto. I've added in the spots we've stopped with blue dots, and noted the date of various journeys alongside.

Route up to Toronto.gif

Many browsers will scale down the image initially: click to zoom in and scroll right (it's a big image).

Blogs of omission

I've been a bad blogger of late, but a good interviewee: since arriving in Toronto I've done two radio interviews (one with Here and Now, the CBC Toronto afternoon show; the other with Les arts et les autres, the Ontario Radio-Canada noon show), and one newspaper interview (today, to The Globe and Mail). The Here and Now one was live yesterday; we made a recording but haven't had a chance to put it up yet. Les arts et les autres may air tomorrow at noon; the Globe piece may be a few days coming. (No word on the CP story as yet.)

Whew! Talking to the media is always a pleasure, but the interviews seem to happen right before or right after a performance. If they're before, I'm in the process of psyching myself up; if afterwards, I'm usually in a state of mental exhaustion. But I think they've gone well; I rather dread hearing what my accent in French sounds like -- sort of like hearing your own voice on an answering machine as you make multiple grammatical errors -- but maybe our digital equipment can correct my vowels when we get it up online.

It's great to be in Toronto. What a place, especially after so long on the road! The drive down from Sault Ste. Marie was nice, though marked by the hail/rain/sleet/freezing rain combination we are now used to (and which has incidentally 150% justified the decision to go by car this time and not by bike!). We continue to have Internet accessibility problems, perhaps because our hotel is not top-of-the-line (rates being very high here); and by God it's slow. My mind continues to boggle that this essential service should be so hard to secure. The best connection we've had yet is still the little motel in Revelstoke on our first night on the road.

And surfers shake their heads : but in their hearts : a dread and wonder dwell

to paraphrase myself.

Two school shows here in Toronto so far, both to Grade 7 and 8 classes. I think this is the most challenging age group, being neither fish nor fowl; but no one has attacked me yet. The shows are good, and would be better still if I took care to get more sleep. The public Toronto performance is on Friday at Fort York (7pm); this will probably be the biggest audience on the Tour, especially as I advertised it on the radio yesterday (with a listenership of several hundred thousand). The show will also be featured on BookTelevision!

Full-length performance video! Good sound!

Not to overshadow the North Shore post below, but here it is, a full-length video of the performance at St. John's High School in Winnipeg on Wednesday. The audio is great, and the fades are (IMHO) quite cool. This is the definitive video so far, no question: kudos to Dave for tireless and outstanding work as cameraman, sound technician, and editor.

Download the St. John's performance video clip.wmv

Some observations: Again, you may wish to enlarge the window of the video player. At many places the "text" departs from the script; there's a good deal of improvisation, both invisible and visible. I'm thinking of transcribing the video as we drive down to Toronto tomorrow, to bring out the difference between the "canonical" version and the version that appeared this time. Will try to do so, though time is scarce these days.

May Day in Sault Ste. Marie

We have reached the worker's paradise of the Soo, having passed the longitudinal meridian of Canada (the day before yesterday), the Arctic/Atlantic watershed (yesterday), and the mid-point of the Trans-Canada (today). The half-way point in terms of the schedule will be the public show in Ottawa on Sunday (2pm at the public library on Metcalfe). Here's an updated map tracing our route!

The day began in Thunder Bay, where our hotel window looked out on the Sleeping Giant, who rests on his back in front of the city:

[Sleeping Giant near Thunder Bay]

In case you can't quite see it, or dread waking him up to ask, here's the Sleeping Giant's anatomy:

[the Sleeping Giant explicated]

Get it? Well, apparently I didn't, because the explanation above is Dave's, which happens to coincide with the city of Thunder Bay's. Here is how I was seeing it:

[Sleeping Giant explicated acc. to Jack Mitchell]

Also near Thunder Bay, we of course visited the Terry Fox Memorial. Terry Fox is one of the greatest Canadians who ever lived; his story is inspiring and tragic. In brief: afflicted with cancer, which had taken one of his legs, he decided to run across Canada, from Newfoundland to the Pacific, in a Marathon of Hope to raise money for cancer research. He made it to Thunder Bay, where the cancer finally forced him to stop, and he died not long after. It is absolutely staggering that he made it half way across. Dave remarked to me, "Every kilometer we drive from now on, he ran with one leg." The 25th Anniversary was April 12th, day of the first public performance on this Tour.

[the Terry Fox Memorial]

The drive along the North Shore of Lake Superior . . . they always tell you, "Boy, it's farther than it looks, especially along the North Shore of Lake Superior there. You'll be amazed, believe me." Having been told this fairly often throughout my life, I was not amazed, and it actually seemed to go by fairly quickly. Of course, it's the largest lake in the world, so driving around it does take some time.

[the big lake they call Gitche Gumee]

Along the way, we were rather surprised to pass hundreds of inukshuks, piled atop the many cliffs along the side of the road. This is an Inuit word meaning (I believe) something like "humanitans," or something that takes the place of a human being in the landscape (usually to indicate directions). It's a pile of rocks shaped (usually) like a person; the word's been in the news recently because it forms the basis of the recently announced 2010 Olympic Games logo.

[an inukshuk]

This being Canada, some (not the Inuit themselves) have objected to the use of the inukshuk as a symbol, on the grounds that it's an Inuit, as opposed to pan-Canadian, practice. But something tells me that thousands of Inuit have not built navigation markers along the North Shore of Lake Superior; rather it really is true that a great number of Canadians have taken up the inukshuk.

[another inukshuk]

Their position on the Trans-Canada at this point is somewhat strange, I suppose, because there is only one way to go!

Oh, and we made it past Wawa safe and sound.