“The New Wascana Anthology: Poetry, Fiction, and Critical Prose”
Edited by Medrie Purdham and Michael
Trussler
Published by University of Regina Press
Review by Shelley A. Leedahl
$49.95
ISBN 978-0-88977
I've said it before: the beauty of an anthology – and
particularly a multi-genre example, like the The New Wascana Anthology, is that readers can sample from a
veritable banquet of hand-picked work. This book represents a “best of” combination
of two earlier “Wascana” anthologies (poetry and short fiction), plus other
important and entertaining work. Editors Merie Purdham and Michael Trussler’s intent
was “to preserve the strengths of the earlier anthologies” and “add a variety
of new selections to make a textbook that would be especially amenable to the
twenty-first-century classroom.”
Within these 551 pages you’ll discover popular works from the canon
(American, British, and Canadian) sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with pieces by
contemporary Canadians, including many of Saskatchewan’s finest (current or
former residents), including Lorna Crozier, Patrick Lane, Gerald Hill, Karen
Solie, and newcomer Cassidy McFadzean, b. 1989. You may find yourself remembering
poetic lines from Shakespeare, Wordsworth or Dickinson, and then be pleased to
shake the metaphorical hand of contemporary short story writers like Eden
Robinson, Dianne Warren, Rohinton Mistry, Alexander MacLeod (his “Miracle Mile”
is placed next to his father Alistair’s Macleod’s evocative east coast tale
“The Boat”), and Richard Ford.
Many will be familiar with Frost’s line “Something there is that doesn’t
love a wall” or Christopher Marlowe’s “Come live with me, and be my love”. To
read these again and recall the sentiment and lilt of the words was, for me, a
touchstone, connecting me to the first time I read these poems in university
classes. I’m all for nostalgia, but what excited much more was to be introduced
to writers I’d known of but not yet read.
The aforementioned Alexander MacLeod delivers a compelling story about
the stress suffered by professional runners. The narrator muses: “If I ever
have a kid, I think I’ll them [sic] participate in the grade-school track meets
when they’re little, but that’s it.” He continues: “ … because it never gets
better than that.” I adore the long, visceral paragraph this is pulled from,
which ends thus: “Maybe the newspaper takes a picture, you and the red-haired
girl, standing on the top step of a plywood podium, holding all your
first-place ribbons in the middle of a weedy field while all the dandelions are
blowing their fuzzy heads off.” Yes!
Sherman Alexie’s “The Approximate Size of My Favourite Tumour” was
hilarious, sad, and relatable, and had me racing to my computer to find out
more about this award-winning Seattle writer. This is the true beauty of
anthologies: they introduce.
The critical prose section includes five entries, most with an
ecological bent. Trevor Herriot discusses Sprague’s pipits and
chestnut-collared longspurs, and Barbara Kingsolver beachcombs with a daughter
while meditating on our misdirected hunger “to possess all things bright and
beautiful.”
One certainly needn’t be a student to appreciate this eclectic
collection.
THIS BOOK IS AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL
BOOKSTORE OR FROM WWW.SKBOOKS.COM