LTAC

Last night, Phyllis Aronoff, president of the Literary Translator's Association of Canada, invited members to her place for a potluck supper and to read selections of their work by candlelight. A friend of mine suggested that being in a roomful of literary translators would be like being in a roomful of well-groomed cats. There was some truth to that speculation; of the fifteen or so people who were there, most were, I'd say, professional translators for whom literary work can only serve as icing on their cakes. All were well-read, cultured, and pleasant, and there were some delightful creatives among them to delighten the mix. The seven people who shared their work read very poetic prose, if not poetry. Beautiful stuff! Naturally, I read some of my translations of Santos, and I'm gratified to say they were well received. It seems this is an annual affair. I look forward to next year's.

Hate to say it, but the LTAC site gets my vote as possibly the ugliest on the web. I know literary translators frequently complain about being invisible; this kind of visual presentation pretty well ensures that! Time for an upgrade, obviously... in the meantime, the art of literary translation remains (to use a Buddhist metaphor) a hidden wish-fulfilling jewel that could bring peoples together and kindle refreshing trends if brought into the light. Earlier remarks on cultural diplomacy (see label below) are a propos.

Apr. 22: Just got a note from Howard Scott, the webmaster of the site, acknowledging that the site is very dated, but that redoing it is always being put off due to lack of time...

Censorship through the back door

So the latest flap is that our wonderful Harper government is trying to push through a tax bill that would enable the government to effectively censor art that doesn't conform to its ideas of "public policy" -- even after that work has been publicly supported and produced. You can read more about it here in the Toronto Star. Of course, film and theatre associations are especially up in arms, as the legislation is most directly is aimed at them. But it does effect other arts as well. Here's a letter the president of the League of Canadian Poets composed yesterday; its National Council (including yours truly) approved of it last night; he gave me permission to print it here.

Dear Senator W. David Angus (and other members of the Senate Committee on Bank, Trade and Commerce),

In my capacity as president of the League of Canadian Poets, representing more than 700 members across Canada, I am writing to urge the senate to defeat this bill and return it to the House of Commons where it can be sensibly amended so it does not include section 119 (3) (b). The problem with that section, as has now been widely reported in the media, is the government’s proposal to act as a censor on Canadian films and other works of art by withholding tax credits on works that have already been produced, so that “public financial support of the production would not be contrary to public policy”. “Public policy” in Canada has never included government’s right to censor works of art that receive or have already received public subsidy. Government policy of this kind is normally associated with dictatorships. Please defeat this bill.

Maurice Mierau
President,
League of Canadian Poets

Sponsors -- whether corporate or government -- are, as Naomi Klein so well put it, the courteous censors of the western world. Already creators have quite burdensome implicit pressures to deal with, with funding and publication bodies and policies as they now stand.

For those (including our government) who are out of touch with artists and with the nature of the creative process, it has to be stressed that having to second guess what "public policy" is puts a serious chill on artistic creation right at its inception.

Ironically, as Peter Darbyshire points out, foreign (i.e. Hollywood) imports wouldn't have to undergo such scrutiny, creating an immediate double standard.

The question of course remains whether this move is a conscious one, part of a very deliberate strategy to curtail freedoms, or some idea a semi-conscious moral-majority (?) government thought would be a good one, without imagining the implications. Considering the controlling and secretive nature of this government, with its close ties to the Bush administration, I frankly wouldn't be surprised if the former was the case. If the latter -- also quite possible --is the case, it sends a strong message of insensitivity, if nothing else.

The Star article suggests the crescendo of protest will likely pressure the government into amending the bill. "Of course, the guidelines don't exist. So there's nothing to worry about. Isn't it silly the way arts folk get into a flap about nothing?" is the article's blithe conclusion. Well, if we didn't get into such a flap, that nothing could easily turn into quite something. And it could just yet.

Fri. Mar. 7: This post underwent some revision from yesterday. On reflection, I chose to tone down certain wording, but to entertain the possibility of sinister intentions on the part of this gov. more seriously.

Margaret Atwood at the Bleu

I just came back from Blue Metropolis (Metropolis Bleu) Festival, where I took in an interview of Margaret Atwood by Jian Ghomeshi, host of Q, a new daily arts show on CBC radio. It was a remarkably entertaining and insightful interview. Although I've heard tell of Atwood's caustic wit, it surprised me to discover just how quick-witted and downright funny she could be. (This woman really speaks her mind, and speaks it well - to have that liberty, she pointed out, it's a great advantage to have no boss or grants dependency to make you look over your shoulder.) After icebreaking trivialities that went on long enough that I started to wonder if they'd take over the interview, the discussion got suddenly serious when it veered towards Atwood's attitudes towards mortality, aging parents, and then, cultural politics. If I synopsise some of the things I found she put exceedingly well, I imagine they will sound banal -- i.e. how we are never really prepared for the shock of seeing our parents suddenly rendered helpless by aging, the role reversals that entails, & how the same goes for that final journey: how can we be prepared for what no one has come back to (convincingly) describe? So too with many other unknowns, including the subconscious we live with every day (and night). At the same time, she has always "loved to travel...", ha ha. For a taste of some of her political views, try out this entertaining and frightening article, published in the Globe and Mail three months ago, slamming the Harper governments' cutbacks to cultural promotion abroad, and to culture in general. Atwood still holds to those views, although they're criticised as harsh, feeling that -- although this government does its best to remain inscrutable -- its arts policies are quite knowing and deliberate. In this interview she likened the cutbacks to the NHL destroying its farm teams and thereby sabataging any future hopes of producing more Wayne Gretskys. She pointed out that if it hadn't been for the funding back in the 60s and 70s of little magazines and publishing houses like House of Anansi (which published her first books) and Coach House Press (with which Michael Ondaatje among others was closely associated), Canadian authors of international stature like herself probably wouldn't be where they are today. Probably the Harper government would wish that we fall back on a system of private foundations like we find south of the border, but we have none of America's advantages: no grand-scale corporate philanthropic tradition, which was, after all, begun by a class of robber-barons trying to clean up their tarnished public image. Wagering our cultural future is economically wrongheaded, she argued, considering that the Canadian arts and cultural industries bring in at least $40 billion a year, more than many major industries.

$40 billion a year -- it's hard to know how she (or her info. sources) arrived at that figure. Is it by defining the arts so generally as to include, say, sports, tourism and leisure? Then possibly a much larger figure could be generated -- but it would seem a specious argument, confounding much of that cultural-economic activity with, say, Canada Council fine arts funding and its spinoffs.

Even so, reflecting on the economic spin-offs of my own relatively modest cultural activities, it would be easy to see how one could arrive at a humongous figure, even if one limited the definition of culture to literature, film, music and the fine arts -- & if you included those spinoffs. Two weeks ago, I put on a musical event at a local cafe with three other musicians. We attracted, despite inclement weather, a crowd of about 50 people, who spent a total of about $900 on booze and food. Factor in the costs of transportation -- many took taxis, including the performers -- and we're at over a thousand dollars in spinoffs for the local economy just for that event. A poetry reading with 18 people benefited the cafe at least $200 (including a modest space rental of $40). There were photocopy bills for posters, & LCP handouts. Those 18 people probably spent about a hundred dollars to get there. Multiply that by all the events across the country, including advertising, hotel bills and airfares for festivals, + factor in expenditures on raw materials for cultural activities (photocopies, computers, art supplies, musical instruments & equipment, postage, etc.) + book & CD buying and I'm sure you're well into the billions. (The artists, as always, get a miniscule slice of that pie.)

Of course, regardless of dollar value, the arts -- as she pointed out -- are essential to being human, and cutbacks in that direction could be construed as an attempt to cut back our humanity. Anyway, all very thought-provoking and worthwhile.