T.L. Morrisey

Showing posts with label Montreal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montreal. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 4, 2026

A newly discovered painting by Darrell Morrisey, September 2026

Darrell Morrisey’s signature 


This newly discovered painting by Darrell Morrisey is "Tall Ship in Harbour"; on the reverse side is a second painting, "Street Scene". It was Darrell's custom to use both sides of the boards on which she painted; the dimensions of this painting are 30 X 22 cm (11.8 X 8.7 inches) which are similar to the dimensions of Darrell's other paintings. Painting on boards of this size was probably due to having to travel light; Darrell never set up a permanent home of her own, her home base was always her parents' residence in Montreal. 

Another Montreal artist who painted on small boards is James Wilson Morrice, I remember seeing his studies, done in oil, that were on permanent display at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts; see, for instance, Morrice's painting "Gibraltar" which is 23.5 X 33 cm (9 X 13 inches). 

On the reverse of "Tall Ship in Harbour" is a street scene, possibly a view of residences from a lane. The painting was discarded by Darrell; there is a piece of paper, an illegible note, glued to the front of the painting.   

"Tall Ship in Harbour" joins other paintings by Darrell Morrisey that have been discovered over the last fifteen years. Where, in London, were tall ships docked in the 1920s? There are perhaps two locations and one of them is still the location of tall ships. Darrell spent prolonged periods of time in London in the 1920s; this painting was auctioned from a town near Chistlehurst where she had family friends, the Charles Darrell family, and near where she had been a student around 1913. This is a beginning of a provenance for the painting. 

From being a "forgotten" member of the Beaver Hall Group of artists, Darrell is forgotten no more. We know something of her life, her family, and a collection of her paintings can be seen in my essay at archive.org. It seemed unlikely that we would know as much as we do about her back in 2010 when several of us began researching Darrell's life. 

I've said it before, “I love a mystery”, and discovering the story of Darrell Morrisey's life, and against all odds discovering several of her paintings, has been a mystery I have loved working on. 


"Tall Ship in Harbour" by Darrell Morrisey

Detail of "Tall Ship in Harbour"

Detail of "Tall Ship in Harbour"

Detail of painting and Darrell Morrisey's signature on "Tall Ship in Harbour"


Photo has been enhanced using Chat GPT


Enhanced image (by Chat GPT Artificial Intelligence) of Darrell Morrisey's "Tall Ship in Harbour"


Painting on reverse of "Tall Ship in Harbour" 



Note: Darrell Morrisey was born in Montreal in 1897. At some point Darrell discovered a love for painting and she attended art classes at the Art Association of Montreal on Philips Square. She became a member of the important Beaver Hall Group of artists but, possibly due to her itinerant lifestyle, she never attained the recognition that she deserved. She died in London, UK, in 1930s of a pre-existing illness.

Friday, October 30, 2026

Halloween, 31 October 2026

Every year the good people who live here put on a fantastic Halloween display on their front lawn; located on the corner of Chester and Montclair in the NDG Borough.








Thursday, October 22, 2026

Essay: A Lineage of Poets, TISH and other groups

 

September 2, 1969, Sir George Williams University's
Henry F. Hall Building


This essay was published in Public Reverie on 3 October 2026.

A Lineage of Poets, TISH and other groups

By Stephen Morrissey

 

It was an exciting time to be a poet in Canada in the late 1960s and 1970s. Some of this excitement was generated by the TISH group of poets; I remember some of the TISH poets who lived in Montreal or who visited here, George Bowering, Frank Davey, and Lionel Kearns. Of course, it wasn't only the TISH poets who contributed to the popularity of poetry at that time, it was also poets like Al Purdy, Irving Layton, Louis Dudek, Gwendolyn McEwen, Phyllis Webb, Gerry Gilbert, bill bissett, bp Nichol, Alden Nowlan, John Newlove, Leonard Cohen, Margaret Atwood, and others. Poetry was more popular than ever and TISH was a part of it.

 

Around 1974 Artie Gold, my future first wife, and I visited the National Gallery of Canada, we took a train from Montreal's Central Station to Ottawa one winter day to look at art. While there I bought a back issue of The Far Point, edited by George Amabile, a professor and poet at the University of Manitoba; this issue featured an article on the new Canadian poetry including the Vancouver poetry scene. I was familiar with some of the poets mentioned in this article, but it was also an introduction to an important avant-garde movement in poetry that was centred in Vancouver.

 

I was never a student in George Bowering's creative writing class at Sir George Williams University (present-day Concordia University); however, Artie Gold, John McAuley, and Tom Konyves were Bowering's students and made names for themselves, they were future members of the Vehicule Poets group. I remember that Bowering seemed to be present everywhere while he lived in Montreal. When Allen Ginsberg read at SGWU in November 1969, Bowering introduced Ginsberg and I could see him sitting in the front row beside Ginsberg's partner Peter Orlovsky. Another time, Sun Ra (or was it Rahsaan Roland Kirk?) performed at the Selby Campus of Dawson College and Bowering was in the audience. Bowering was a prolific writer, highly talented, and a hard worker for poetry. The last time I saw George Bowering was at the Artie Gold memorial reading in April 2007, held at The Word Book Store on Milton Street near McGill University. Bowering had a great reading voice and was approached by CBC radio and asked if he wanted to host their popular national daily morning show, he wisely declined.

 

Bowering's Kerrisdale Elegies (1984) is one of his finest achievements, I would place it among the most important poetry collections published in Canada. Another book by Bowering is Delayed Mercy and other poems (1984), a book published immediately after Kerrisdale Elegies; this is a collection of poems dedicated to American and Canadian poets. One day I walked into a bookstore in Toronto, it must have been the mid-1990s and I was attending a League of Canadian Poets' AGM, and flipping through Bowering's book for the first time I found a poem, "Sequestered Pop & a Stripe" dedicated to me. I was taken aback!

 

Bowering was friends with Artie Gold. It was Bowering who compared Artie to the French poet Arthur Rimbaud but I always questioned this comparison; and then I read, just recently, in Dudek's 1980 review of the anthology, The Vehicule Poets, where he calls Artie the Tristan Corbière of the group, a "wandering clochard, bohemian, mourning minstrel". I don't think either comparison, Rimbaud or Corbière, are correct. Artie is in a class of his own, he was highly talented and individualistic but also self-destructive and narcissistic. I know that Artie was a great fan of Frank O'Hara's poems but I think he may be closer, in aesthetic sensibility and poetic voice, to James Schuyler.

 

In 1969 I used to borrow books from the Norris Building library at SGWU, where I was a student, and there were old copies of the TISH newsletter still on display with other periodicals. TISH seemed to be everywhere; I suspect this was mainly the work of George Bowering. My wife, Carolyn Zonailo, lived in Kerrisdale when George and Angela Bowering lived there; Ed Varney, George Woodcock, and it`s possible that one of my favourite Canadian authors, Ethel Wilson, also once lived in Kerrisdale; by our standards it is a pretty exclusive neighourhood. Carolyn discusses George Bowering's presence in the Vancouver poetry scene in her book, The Letter Z, On Poetics (2026); she writes that he was always generous and supportive of younger poets.

 

Another TISH poet, Frank Davey, also taught at SGWU in the early 1970s and I attended several of his readings. I remember Davey reading his Tarot card inspired poems at Loyola College (before it merged with SGWU and became the Loyola Campus of Concordia University), he read at the same, small auditorium where I heard a disheveled and apparently disorganized William Empson give a lecture. I guess the TISH poets wanted to distinguish themselves from previous groups of Canadian poets, for instance older established poets, but in fact TISH is part of a continuum of poets, a lineage of poets.

 

My friend, George Johnston, told me that he corresponded with George Bowering and, I believe, some of the poems from this correspondence have been published; they are acrostics on the name "George". George Johnston had been a student and later friend of Northrop Frye; in the 1950s George Johnston and Jay MacPherson, and others, were members of the "Little Fryes" group of poets who were influenced by Frye. In the old days of youthful vigour and folly George Bowering and Frank Davey were dismissive of this group, as was Louis Dudek, but all things pass and some of us end up being friends or appreciative of those we dismissed in our younger life.

 

I remember exactly where I was on the afternoon of January 9, 1979, I was at a reading by Lionel Kearns and later Lionel and I and Louis Dudek went out to eat at a restaurant in Montreal's underground city. When I returned home a few hours later I learned that my wife had given birth, prematurely, to our son, Jake. Lionel was a good friend of Louis Dudek, he named his son Louis after Dudek. Here is something we forget, the TISH poets weren't baby-boomers, they were born in the late 1930s to the early-1940s, but any generational divide has less importance when we decide the value of poetry. TISH were the significant poetry group that came after Montreal's First Statement and Preview poets from the 1940s and 1950s, and after TISH it is our own Vehicule Poets in the 1970s who continued the tradition of like-minded poets gathering in groups..

 

In a curious literary synchronicity, the important 1963 Vancouver Poetry Conference, July 26 to August 16, 1963, was held at the University of British Columbia. Meanwhile, two months later, there was another important literary conference in Foster, Quebec. My introduction to the Foster conference was from a book in my high school library, English Poetry in Quebec, Proceedings of the Foster Poetry Conference, October 12-14, 1963 (1964); participants included Leonard Cohen, Louis Dudek, F.R. Scott, Irving Layton, Doug Jones, A.J.M. Smith, and George Whalley. The Vancouver conference was America-centric, the Foster conference was Canada-centric, but they are both important conferences. However, sixty years later I would say that the talks given at the Foster Conference are more important to us as Canadians than the more widely known Vancouver Conference that aligned West Coast, especially the TISH poets, with popular American poetry. In retrospect, the Vancouver Poetry Conference may have been a part of the 1960s American invasion of academia in Canada that Robin Matthews so opposed. I know that I've read a lot of contemporary American poetry; meanwhile, George Whalley, a poet and professor and attendee at the Foster Conference, who published a multi-volume annotation of Coleridge's marginalia, and whose Poetic Process (1953) is a classic on the art of poetry, is almost unknown. This emphasis on American poetry, the Beats, the San Francisco poets, and Charles Olson, is interesting but it ends up being a diversion from finding our authentic Canadian voice as poets.

 

It was in Louis Dudek that the West Coast poets, including Bowering and Davey, found a member of the previous generation they could wholly relate to. I doubt they could relate to Irving Layton who was, always to me, a nice person; but his public bombast and narcissism was not attractive. Dudek was different, highly intelligent, a friend of Ezra Pound, the author of a large body of work, and someone who was always willing to take risks in his work, for instance his long poem, "Continuation". Louis made an impression on many poets because of his intelligence, his openness to new ideas, and his impressive work as a poet, scholar, and man of letters. TISH and others eventually recognized Louis Dudek's importance. Frank Davey published a comprehensive Louis Dudek issue of Open Letter (spring & summer 1981), and Dudek gave an important talk at the Long-liners Conference at York University in Toronto in 1984. Robin Blaser, an American, a poet, and professor at Simon Fraser University, edited Infinite Worlds, the poetry of Louis Dudek (1988); Blaser`s introduction is one of the best appraisals of Dudek's work in poetry.

 

TISH is an important episode in Canadian literary history, it is part of our lineage as poets extending from the Confederation poets to the McGill Group of poets, to First Statement and Preview, to the "little Fryes", to TISH, and to the Vehicule Poets. The gathering of a cohesive group of similar minded poets is a medium for poetry to advance and to be noticed in a way not always possible for the solitary poet, it is synergistic; several poets working together compounds the work one poet can accomplish on their own. While a group, like TISH, is collaborative it is not at the expense of any member of the group's individual creativity. A group is sustaining for younger poets, the life of a group lasts a few years and then is finished, but the gains for members are long lasting and here we are all of these years later honouring the TISH poets. TISH and the other groups of poets are important and the members have all written poetry that is worth reading. But at base, it is the poetry that is important; and for Canadian poets it is important to situate oneself historically in a lineage of poets that goes back to Confederation and then to the pre-Confederation era. This is how a national literature that defines a country is created, it is how a readership for poetry is created, and TISH is an important part of this lineage.

 

Stephen Morrissey

5 September 2026


Edited with corrections on 13 October 2026

 

 


Friday, September 4, 2026

Essay: Continuing Continuation, on Louis Dudek

 

Peel Street, downtown Montreal,1970s


First published in Urban Grafitti, Edmonton, AB, 27 March 2013 (Urban Grafitti is no longer online).

by

Stephen Morrissey

 

“...remember/ the paltriness of worldly claims,/ and the immensity/ that is always now.”

—Louis Dudek, Continuation III  

 

 

1

 A curious literary synchronicity: on January 4, 1963, Margaret Avison experienced a mystical experience in which she discovered her faith in God; this had a profound influence on her future poetry. On January 4, 1967, exactly four years later, Louis Dudek began writing the first of three volumes of one of the most important modern poems in Canadian literature, Continuation.   In Notebooks 1960 – 1994 (1994), Dudek writes, “The great poems tend to be great expository statement. And each such poem is a central poem for the poet in question, containing the core of his vision and thought.” That’s what is in Continuation, Dudek’s “vision and thought.”   Several years before Dudek published Continuation I, Susan Stromberg-Stein referred to it as “a poem that will possibly be his [Dudek’s] final ongoing poem, for he has subtitled it ‘An Infinite Poem in Progress.’ In this work one observes the poet combining lyrical fragments and setting them into a continuous form that has the permanence of finished poetry...” (Stromberg-Stein, M.A. thesis, McGill University, 1977)   Dudek was not interested in writing an autobiography, he had an abhorrence of sensationalism, and he rejected what he considered any egotistical drawing attention to oneself. However, Ron Everson, an old friend of Dudek’s, states in a 1983 interview that Dudek’s theme in his poetry “is his whole life.” Dudek writes, “The whole story means my whole life... But you know we say poetry, or any art, is the expression of the life of the artist, of his whole psyche, of himself on the page . . . Each poet, in fact, out of the scattered thoughts going on in his mind, makes the construct that he calls the finished poem.” (Louise Schrier interview, 1990)   How a poet handles writing about “his whole life” depends on the poet’s intention; is the poet’s voice an authentic expression of his psyche or is it ego-centric and self-promoting? As well, Dudek does not condemn strong emotion in poetry or even highly emotional confessional poetry; what he condemns is self-inflation.   Dudek’s dismissal of John Cage, and other avant-garde artists, who might have embraced and supported what he was doing in poetry, is unfortunate. Dudek writes, “John Cage: A soft-brained idiot. The purpose of his inane talk is a subtle kind of self-promotion, disguised as humility, but full of name-dropping and self-pampering.” (Notebooks, 1994)   One of Dudek’s great underlying concerns in Continuation is the passion of a life lived for poetry, a life dedicated to poetry. He describes writing poetry as an “addiction.”   Dudek lived in New York City for a number of years in the late 1940s and early 1950s and it was during this time that he came under the influence of Ezra Pound; while there he knew other poets, including Paul Blackburn. I remember Dudek telling me of knowing Blackburn, that as they walked along a city street together Blackburn climbed a telephone pole and sat on the top of it.   Dudek’s years in New York City, studying at Columbia University, meeting Ezra Pound and other artists—being in a milieu of art and creativity—are the seminal years in Dudek’s creative life.   Dudek contributed to the image of himself as conservative in his criticism of hippies, experiments in alternative lifestyles, and student rebellion in the mid-to-late 1960s; however, his earlier long poems and Continuation, a poem that is more sophisticated and avant-garde than most poetry being written in Canada today, refute this perception.   Robin Blaser writes, “They understand him to be a reactionary, which is to say that they misunderstand him.” (Infinite Worlds, 1988)   Most people who have studied Dudek’s poetry feel that he was overly influenced by Ezra Pound; however, eventually this changed and as much as Dudek had once supported Pound he later found fault with him. This is an example of the puer overthrowing the senex, it is when the children or followers of people who are significant to them finally divest themselves of the other person’s influence; the alternative is to never fully realize one’s own potential. I suspect that it is only with Dudek’s growing discontent with the importance he had given to Pound that he was able to begin writing Continuation. As an aside, I remember Dudek telling me that in all of his years of teaching he never convinced anyone of the greatness of Pound’s poetry. (See, as well, Dk/ Some Letters of Ezra Pound, ed. Louis Dudek, 1974)

  

 

2

 If having a large number of books by a specific poet, and books on that poet’s work, is an indication of a literary influence, then three significant influences on my writing have been Robert Lowell, Charles Olson, and Louis Dudek. They are poets I read and reread, poets whose work means much to me at both a personal and creative level.    In Continuation, epigrams are juxtaposed before and after other dissimilar epigrams, it is similar to the way people think, jumping from one idea to another apparently unrelated idea; in this, the poem is an “internal monologue”, that’s what Dudek called it.   Dudek’s Continuation is a post-modern poem attacking post-modernism and extolling the modernist movement.   Continuation is similar to a painting by Jackson Pollock, there is no narrative or focal point to observe, every part of a painting by Pollock is equal to every other part of the same painting. Similarly, every part of Continuation is equal, although different, to every other part, there is no narrative leading up to a climax in the poem.   There are two ways Dudek could have written (or “assembled”) Continuation, both presume that he already had the epigrams, short statements, and other fragments of writing that make up the poem. The first is by taking these fragments and putting them together in a random way. The second method would be to take all of the fragments and consciously piece them together giving the poem the appearance of a random organization.   Among the poets who influenced Dudek is Stéphane Mallarmé whose poem, Un coup de dés, is important to the writing of Continuation.   Three “epigrams” from John Cage: “I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry.” “The goal is not to have a goal.” “As far as consistency of thought goes, I prefer inconsistency.”   Dudek was always concerned about irrationality and the artist; he seemed to posit a connection between irrationality and the very people that he felt threatened the old, established order.   I think of Margaret Laurence’s novel, A Jest of God, with the blue faced barbarians waiting to invade the walled villa where children are playing with no idea of their possible destruction. What threatens to disintegrate society and destroy propriety—“barbarians” as Dudek described them—is always present.   Always present in Dudek’s work is the belief in the transcendent power of poetry. Poetry and art were accorded an almost religious quality by Dudek; his desire was to reinvent poetry and, like Ezra Pound, to “make it new”.    Dudek was always aware of the small readership for poetry and how inconsequential poetry is for the great majority of the population. (As many people die on the roads on a holiday weekend as read poetry Dudek once said.)   It’s a mystery how poems come to be written. It could be that writing poetry mostly comes in short bursts of inspiration (to inspire, to breathe in spirit); Continuation, a long poem, has the intensity of many short poems, or epigrams, put together.   Dudek is fairly relentless in his criticism of both Northrop Frye and Marshall McLuhan, two highly distinguished Canadian scholars and critics. McLuhan, like Dudek, was very much involved with Ezra Pound in the late 1940s and early ‘50s.   Marshall McLuhan’s “probes”, his epigrams, are insightful and cause the reader to understand, in a new way, the digital and electric media that is so much a part of the world in which we live.   Three epigrams from Marshall McLuhan: “Discovery comes from dialogue that starts with the sharing of ignorance.” “Any highway eatery with its TV set, newspaper and magazine is as cosmopolitan as New York or Paris.” “The story of modern America begins with the discovery of the white man by the Indians.”   McLuhan, who was conservative and a religious person, was one of the first academics to explain the new technological environment in which we live.   McLuhan writes: “I believe that our survival, and at the very least our comfort and happiness, is predicated on understanding the nature of our new environment, because unlike previous environmental changes, the electric media constitute a total and near-instantaneous transformation of culture, values and attitude.”   Dudek and McLuhan were writing and thinking from two different perspectives. Dudek’s is the world of poetry; he writes from a perception of the eternal and the infinite. McLuhan’s is the world of temporality, he is writing of a contemporary and changing world of electric media.   I never agreed with Dudek’s negative assessment of Northrop Frye; indeed, I wonder if there wasn’t some bitterness regarding Frye on Dudek’s part, especially after reading Frye’s mean-spirited 1955 review of Dudek’s Europe (1954); Frye writes: “... I find large stretches of the book unrewarding. In the first place, the influence of Pound is oppressive. Pound is everywhere: the rub-a-dub three- and four-accent, the trick of snapped-up quotations and allusion, the harangues against usura, the toboggan-slide theory of the decline of Europe after the Middle Ages, and so on. In the second place, the conversational style brings the ideas into sharp relief, and the ideas are commonplace, prejudice reinforced by superficial tourism...”   In a 1965 article in The Tamarack Review, Dudek writes, “I consider both McLuhan and Northrop Frye as really poets manqués, best appreciated when we read their speculations as imaginative constructs made out of their real materials, not as ‘objective’ or ‘scientific’ theories at all.”   A coincidence of dates: Valerie Eliot, T.S. Eliot’s widow, has just died, reported in the newspaper for 16 November 2012. The obituary states that T.S. Eliot died on January 4, 1965, two years to the day after Margaret Avison’s religious experience and two years before Dudek began writing Continuation I.   Louis’ cousin and close friend, the artist Stanley Roznyski, passed away on December 9, 2012. Born on February 21, 1931, he grew up near where Louis lived in the east end of Montreal. Roznyski has a moving eulogy for Louis in Eternal Conversations, Remembering Louis Dudek (2003).   Dudek writes: “…you can’t write good poetry because you’ve read many books or because you think great thoughts. Poetry is a mysterious process that happens to very few individuals, and they are not fortunate in it. (Emily Dickinson and Thomas Trehearne, completely unknown in their time; Blake and Holderlin, cursed with mental ills and isolation.)” (Poetry Canada Review, early 1990s) This reminds me of the lack of recognition Dudek felt his own poetry had received and his sense of isolation as a poet and a person. Robin Blaser describes Dudek as a “walking loneliness”. (Infinite Worlds, 1988)  

 

 

3

Three quotations from The Other Voice, Essays on Modern Poetry (1990), by Mexican poet Octavio Paz: “What is an ‘extensive poem’? The dictionary says that to extend is to increase something so that it occupies more space. To extend also means to expand, to develop, to enlarge, to unfold, to occupy greater terrain. In its original and primary sense, extension is a spatial concept. Hence an extensive poem is a long poem. Since in language words come one after the other in a row, an extensive poem is one that has many lines and the reading of which takes a considerable amount of time. Space is time.” “A great change: the first-person singular becomes the main character of the extensive poem.”  “The best example of the new poetics was Un coup de dés, a strange poem that has as its subject the act of writing a poem. But a poem never before attempted: an absolute poem. Not a poem on the poem but the poem on the poem.” In light of Paz’s definition, Dudek’s Continuation is an “extensive” poem.   Dudek suggests that his epigrams are a way for him to write poetry, they are the first line of a poem that proceeds to other epigrams and disparate lines and then a whole poem; or, he juxtaposes epigram after epigram in a kind of free floating mix of confused random associations that eventually, in a synergistic way, take on more meaning than if the epigrams were presented individually; this is how Continuation is similar to some of Cage’s writing in which dissimilar statements are juxtaposed together.   “Meaning” in Continuation is achieved by the repetition of epigrams (and other fragments of writing) with similar ideas; otherwise, on first reading, the poem seems “meaningless”.   In other words, as one might expect, this is not “traditional” poetry.   The “problem” with 1940s/1950s Abstract Expressionism—the art of Jackson Pollock, Franz Kline, Marc Rothko and others—is that despite its relative popularity, more people wanted art to be a representation of “reality” than total abstraction. Abstract Expressionism was superseded by Pop Art—the art of Andy Warhol, Claes Oldenburg, Robert Rauschenberg, and others—an art extolling in an ironic way the very popular culture, or low art, that the previous generation of Abstract Expressionist artists condemned. This was suggested in John Logan’s play on Marc Rothko, Red.   Pierre Trudeau’s epigrammatic statement, “Reason over Passion”, was later used in an ironic way, it was sewn onto a quilt by the artist Joyce Weiland and is on exhibit at the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa.   Dudek began Continuation when he was 49 years old, a month later he turned fifty; the concept for how to write the poem was discovered by Dudek in 1956, when he was only thirty-eight years old; however, Dudek tells us that he could only write Continuation after he discovered his authentic voice, one that was a memory of his thought processes when he was a child. With this in mind, Continuation is Dudek’s life-long work, his life opus.   Dudek’s Continuation is one of the most radical poems in Canadian literature, “radical” meaning to go to the roots of poetry and language.    A common idea among Jungians is that “the brighter the light the greater the darkness.” Dudek’s emphasis on rationality hides the irrational dark side of the poet.   Dudek’s conservative persona is a mask worn by a poet whose life was lived quietly and conservatively but whose mind and imagination were open to a multiplicity of thoughts and creative ideas.   Rationality is a veneer of conscious order over the depth and many layered complexity of the unconscious. See C.G. Jung’s Red Book (2009) for a description of the journey into the unconscious mind.   All art is vision, or else it is the repetition of the past.   Continuation is, in some ways, one of Dudek’s “travel” books, but this is not travel to a place as was Europe (1954) or En México (1958); this is a journey across time, it is the journey of a poet’s life during middle age to old age and preparation for death; the last poems in Continuation III, including his final reflections on life, must have been written only months before Dudek’s passing.   In these final poems, Dudek returns repeatedly to the concept of time as infinity, he envisions an ultimate “shining” that illuminates the darkness of ignorance with a kind of mystical perception of life.

__________________________

 

This essay is dedicated to two friends—Richard Sommer and Keitha K. MacIntosh—both of whom I met in the early 1970s and both of whom passed away in 2012. I am grateful for having known them, and for their kindness and generosity to me.

 

Note: This essay continues the work begun in my essay Reading Louis Dudek’s Continuation: An introduction to a major Canadian poem.

 

 

Stephen Morrissey

    November 2012 – April 2013 • Montreal

 

 


 

 


Tuesday, July 7, 2026

Book review: The Mind Mappers, Friendship, Betrayal and the Obsessive Quest to Chart the Brain, by Eric Andrew-Gee

             


          

This review was published in Public Reverie on 5 July 2026.

-0-


The Mind Mappers: Friendship, Betrayal and the Obsessive Quest to Chart the Brain
Eric Andrew-Gee   
Random House Canada
2025, Toronto, Canada
ISBN: 978-1-03-900806-9

Review by Stephen Morrissey

The Mind Mappers, Friendship, Betrayal and the Obsessive Quest to Chart the Brain

Eric Andrew-Gee   

Random House Canada

2025, Toronto, Canada

ISBN: 978-1-03-900806-9


By Stephen Morrissey

Some books are read for entertainment, for example detective novels; some books are read because we want to learn something new, about politics, the lives of famous people, beekeeping, how to play chess, or something else; the really important books, in my experience, are those that we read and learn something about ourselves, that inspire us to go more deeply into ourselves, that help us to see things in a new way, and these are the books that I enjoy the most. This was my experience with Eric Andrew-Gee's The Mind Mappers, Friendship, Betrayal and the Obsessive Quest to Chart the Brain (2025). Right from page one I liked this book; I liked Andrew-Gee's writing, I appreciated his thorough research, I liked his occasional references to literature; and I liked his knowledge of the English-speaking community in Montreal, our history, and our accomplishments. These include the founding of the Montreal Neurological Institute, familiarly known as The Neuro, and still pre-eminent among neurological hospitals. 

Andrew-Gee's book is about the co-founders of The Neuro, Dr. Wilder Penfield and Dr. William Cone; they had been close friends,  beginning in the 1920s at the Presbyterian Hospital in New York City and then, in 1929, at The Montreal Neurological Institute. Dr. Cone was a private person, not given to talking about himself or promoting himself; he was self-effacing, and he preferred to stay in the shadow of his oldest friend and colleague Dr. Wilder Penfield, who was nick-named "The Chief" when he was director of The Neuro, where Cone was affectionately known as "The Boss". Dr. Penfield remains a fairly flat, one dimensional, character until the book's "Epilogue: Through a Glass Darkly", in which we read of how Penfield grew away from neuroscience in his later years; after retirement he wrote novels, his autobiography, and advocated for causes that were important for him.    

With Penfield's announcement in the late 1950s that he planned to retire from the directorship of The Neuro it was assumed that Dr. Cone would be promoted to that position, it should have been the pinnacle of Dr. Cone's career, a confirmation of Penfield's belief in him and confidence in Cone's ability, but he was passed over by Penfield. Cone wasn't even on the short list of possible candidates. I emphasize this to show how deeply betrayed Cone must have felt by the way he was treated by Penfield; but it was not only betrayal Cone felt, it was also humiliation at being passed over for a position that most of his colleagues felt he was next in line for and rightfully deserved. Dr. Cone committed suicide in his office at The Neuro on 4 May 1959.

In personality and temperament Dr. Cone and Dr. Penfield were very different people. On one hand, we have Cone with his unhappy childhood, a time of illness for him including the deaths of his father and grandfather, and later his profoundly unhappy marriage, and now there was betrayal by his oldest friend and colleague. Dr. Cone must have wondered if his friendship with Penfield had ever really existed, or had he deceived himself all of these years? On the other hand, we have Penfield who was doted over by his mother and much loved by her and by his wife, children, and grandchildren; he was an extrovert whose later ambition was to win a Nobel Prize for his discoveries in neuroscience. Cone was psychologically complex while Penfield lacked this complexity. Penfield's image of respectability was flawless except for one major flaw, it is his betrayal of his best friend.

After visiting The Neuro in April of this year I remembered that I had, at home, ever since it was first published in 1967, a copy of Wilder Penfield's Man and his Family; a few days later I read Penfield's book, its theme is the importance of family in society, that for children the foundation of family life is essential to a healthy adult life. The book is worth reading for its ideas but it is not well written. After retirement from The Neuro Penfield served as president of the Vanier Institute of the Family, he was one of the last people to meet with Governor General Georges Vanier the day before Vanier died.

My first time visiting The Neuro was in October 1969 to visit my stepfather who had brain tumour surgery there in the late 1950s; he seemed to have recovered and it was several years after this surgery that he married my mother. Surgery was needed again in 1966 for a second tumour removal; The Neuro's director, my stepfather's surgeon, and successor to Dr. Penfield, was Dr. Theodore Rasmussen. This second surgery was not a success and for the next three years my stepfather lived alternately at home for a few weeks, then in residences (one in Rawdon, Quebec), and his physical and mental decline continued until his return to The Neuro in the fall of 1969. I don't know how my mother survived those years, my stepfather did not survive. I should add that today the postoperative mortality rate for brain tumour surgery is about 35%, and it was much lower sixty years ago in 1966.

I remember my visit to The Neuro in late October 1969; my stepfather was in a bed directly across from the door of his hospital room, one that was shared with perhaps, three or four other patients. I was nineteen years old and had just started university. I remember trying consciously to think of something reassuring and kind to say to my stepfather, I said something before leaving, and as someone who remembers so much, who has made memory the basis of much of my writing, I just can't remember what I said to him. I do remember the morning, a few days later, that my mother received a phone call from The Neuro, telling her that he had died; I was lying in bed upstairs and I could hear the phone ring and my mother answer and speak to whoever was calling, but I knew intuitively what the call was about. It was more relief that we felt than anything else, it was the end of my stepfather's suffering. But relief is short lived and grief has a long afterlife.

Now, here is an interesting coincidence regarding my stepfather. Dr. Penfield's book, Man and His Family, was made up of his Josiah Wood Lectures on the family, lectures given at Mount Allison University in Sackville, New Brunswick. My copy of this book was "presented to us under the terms of the Josiah Wood lectureship". The coincidence is that Josiah Wood was my stepfather's grandfather; Josiah Wood's daughter, Dora Beatrice Wood, married Mark Edgar Nichols, who was a founder of the Canadian Press and editor of newspapers in Montreal, Winnipeg, and Vancouver, and they had three sons, Mark, Charles, and my stepfather Graham Nichols.

I admire Drs. Penfield and Cone. Their personal and professional story, one that is not commonly known, as it is described by Eric Andrew-Gee, only increases my admiration and appreciation for these two men and their advances in neuroscience. Their most enduring legacy, other than important innovative surgical techniques and the significant mapping of the areas of the brain, is the founding of the Montreal Neurological Institute; The Neuro is an important place for neurological research and patient care, it is a place of dedicated doctors and nurses. But there is a human dimension and Mr. Andrew-Gee's book explores this aspect of The Neuro in the relationship of its co-founders, he does so with superb research. Andrew-Gee writes,    

Both Cone and Penfield felt their lives were failures in different ways, and it is true that in some areas they fell short. The bitterest failure of all was the most meaningful: Cone and Penfield mapped the brain but lost each other.

He continues,

           As the medical historian Yan Prkachin has argued, the "interdisciplinary                               environment created within the walls of the Montreal Neurological Institute                         constitutes the key site for the foundation of modern neuroscience." 

Andrew-Gee concludes by writing, "Cone and Penfield may not have perfected neurosurgery or discovered the seat of the soul. But to anyone who has tried since—or tried to fathom the many other    mysteries of the universe in our heads—they were not failures at all." (p. 290)

Eric Andrew-Gee's The Mind Mappers, Friendship, Betrayal and the Obsessive Quest to Chart the Brain takes us deeply into the relationship of Dr. Wilder Penfield and Dr. William Cone and the founding of the Montreal Neurological Institute;  it was an historical period that includes tragedy, betrayal, love, selfless commitment, and the fragility of human relationships.

About the author: Stephen Morrissey is the author of twelve books, including poetry and literary criticism. He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree, Honours in English with Distinction, from Sir George Williams University (now Concordia University) in 1973. In 1976, he graduated with a Master of Arts degree in English Literature from McGill University. In the 1970s, Morrissey was associated with the Véhicule Poets. The Stephen Morrissey Fonds, 1963 - 2014, are housed at Rare Books and Special Collections of the McLennan Library at McGill University. Stephen Morrissey married Vancouver poet Carolyn Zonailo in 1995. Visit the poet at www.stephenmorrissey.ca