Guest Fiction Editor (Jan.
2002 issue): Nathan Whitlock
(He's the
one with the trombone.)
Nathan Whitlock’s
short fiction won the 2000 Writers’ Union of Canada Short Prose
Competition for Developing Writers, and was shortlisted in THIS
Magazine’s 2000 Great Canadian Literary Hunt. He regularly
reviews fiction for Quill & Quire, and has just left Descant,
where he was Managing Editor for a while. He lives in Toronto. He
has his driver’s license, and can borrow steel-toe boots, if
need be.
|
|
What do you like and dislike about contemporary
Canadian fiction? (Name names.)
Like: How Did
You Sleep? by Paul Glennon and 19
Knives by Mark Anthony Jarman (though I think Jarman needs to get a
little less macho and Glennon needs to become a little more so); the H.G.
Wells-ish middle section of Yann Martel’s new novel; "The Poet
and Novelist as Roomates" by Sheila Heti; the brief excerpts I’ve
read from Lenny Bruce is Dead
by Jonathan Goldstein; the excerpt from Rocket Science by Julia
Gaunce that was in Descant last year; Anansi promotional
campaigns (postering!).
Dislike: distance; absence; desire; obsession; flora;
generations; summers by the lake; fictitious punk/rock bands with
cute names (you sound like the Air Farce, people); characters who are
artists; omnibus novels (some intrigue, some upheaval, some sex, some
recipes, some poetry, some philosophy, some internal monologues, some
revisionist Canadian history, a little Toronto, a little Sri Lanka);
aesthetic intoxication (anybody who’s writing has been described as
‘painterly’); sentimentalism (whether from Jane Urquhart or Stan
Rogal); Cartesian lab notes (the Coach House Gang, and anyone who
believes that the/ory le/ads a/r/t); Globe fiction reviews
(1500-word plot synopses); the dearth of parody (notable exception:
"The Ondaatje Memos" on cardigan.com);
workshops (distinctive voices are rare enough without group criticism);
comfort (see: Kafka, axe, frozen sea).
I apologize if I sound like a crank.
Describe the types of stories you'd like to see in
TDR.
I can’t really improve upon Geoffrey
Cook’s call for work "that is free of cliche —
intellectually, emotionally, spiritually and technically" — I
will only add "and that contains the exact balance of hubris and
humility, ambition and awe, chocolate and blood, this and that."
Name a favourite fiction writer, and say why.
Here’s a few (no big surprises): Nicholson Baker,
for his ability to transform cheerful, dorky middleness into something
unsettling. Italo Calvino, for the same reason, though not so dorky.
Chekhov and Cheever, for unequaled depictions of paralyzed lives that
make you lie awake all night, on your roof. James Joyce, for the three
or four chapters of Ulysess that laugh dismissively at everything
written since (and loudest, it seems, at my stuff). Donald Barthelme,
for cutting the apron strings. And William Steig, author of Shrek!,
The Amazing Bone, and many more, for assisting in a few hundred
bedtimes and counting.
|