If you never thought that a book about the Anglo Literary Revival could be a page turner, it’s only because you haven’t, yet, read Linda Leith’s provocative, insightful, and thoroughly engrossing Writing in the Time of Nationalism: From Two Solitudes to Blue Metropolis.
As many of you may already know, Leith, a Westmount resident, is the founder (and until recently) the director of the uniquely multilingual Blue Metropolis Montreal International Literary Festival.
As an author and as someone who has been involved in most of the key developments affecting the English Montreal Literary scene over the past 30 years, she was always ideally positioned to offer an insider perspective, and I have to admit… the end result is a fascinating ride.
In her book, Leith explores how rising Quebec nationalism in the ‘60s and ‘70s created in essence two separate countries; Two Solitudes, to borrow Hugh MacLennan’s own words. The book recounts how, during those decades, English Montreal went into decline and its writers became marginalized, forgotten and neglected, both here and in the ROC.
It’s a fundamental paradox that Leith explores in her book; one that many francophones may have a hard time understanding. How is it possible that members of the world’s most powerful linguistic community are complaining about marginalization? But here’s the conundrum: Anglos are a minority within a minority, living in a city which houses a majority that is also a minority in the rest of the world. Confused? So are the rest of us who live here most of the time.
According to Quebecoise literary critic, Gilles Marcotte, back in 1989, “there could be no such thing as an English-Quebec writer,” Leith recounts. “English-speaking Quebec had not only become a non-place; I had become a non-person living in this non-place.”
The book is essentially Leith’s story of how Blue Metropolis came about, partly as an attempt to showcase Montreal’s literary talent, and partly as a fervent hope to bridge the literary divides. But it’s about so much more; particularly the fragile and always-tenuous linguistic dynamics that make this city so frustrating, yet so exhilarating to reside in.
How is it possible that members of the world’s most powerful linguistic community are complaining about marginalization? -
Those interested in the vital role that language plays in reflecting a community, but also in shaping it, will find this book of great interest. Over the years, artists from both side of the linguistic fence have climbed over and found a no man’s land devoid of politics to come together and create, as well as document, a common reality.
But, true to form, linguistic politics continue undaunted, both in Quebec and the ROC. It was only a month ago at the Juno’s that Quebecers watched a tribute to Canadian music that did not include a single French song. Only a month ago that ADISQ (Quebec’s recording industry association) chose not to award Arcade Fire (Quebec’s most celebrated musical export at the moment, winners of the Grammys and the Junos) an award, because “they weren’t Quebecois enough.” The Gazette’s Brendan Kelly wrote a pertinent column on the subject, entitled: “Arcade Fire said it best: Wake up.”
“Blue Metropolis is a Utopian idea,” Leith says. “It’s the city we want to love in, or at least the city I want to live in.”
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Leith chose to reproduce Rilke’s quotation (upon which MacLennan based his Two Solitudes title) in its entirety in the book. “Love consists in this: that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.” I think this is Leith’s subtle, yet firm, message to all of us who call this place home.
Linda Leith will be reading from her book on Wednesday, April 27 at 8 p.m. as part of this year’s Blue Metropolis events. To view the entire program, log on to www. metropolisbleu.org
