As Canadians we endure

The young Morse's name is Endeavour, like the drama on television. Another possible name, for Canadians, would be Endurance, that is what we do best considering our long winters. Endurance is also the name of Shackleton's ship that sank in the Antarctica in 1915, and the ship itself has endured, frozen in time by the frigid water in which it sank. We Canadians endure while others surrender, including Americans who never tire of telling the world how great they are and that you can be anything, literally anything, if you put your mind to it. We know this isn't true, but it's good old fashioned American get up and go and will power over all obstacles. Good for them! If you have enough money and resources you can possibly achieve what poorer people can`t achieve, but it is also pride, hubris, and self-satisfaction. I think the moral fibre and vision of life comes from the very earth and geography on which we walk, and anyone coming to Canada soon drops their old ways and learns how to endure. I remember a book in the SGWU stacks, on Robert Lowell, titled Everything to be Endured, but that is also life. Call me Endurance, like other Canadians, I have survived. 

Meanwhile, a snow storm is blowing up from Texas or a cold spell is blowing south from the Arctic; these photographs of an earlier snowstorm were taken in February 2022.

A few notes on Confessional Poetry

1. Over a three-day period in late April 1977 I wrote a long poem, “Divisions” (Divisions, Coach House Press, Toronto, 1983). I wrote about things that had deep emotional meaning in my life. I had married the previous summer, in August 1976, and the wedding was immediately followed by marital turmoil. Perhaps this was the catalyst for me to write a poem I had tried to write for many years. Writing “Divisions” was a catharsis, a purging of emotions; it is a poem of witness, of confession, of what I had seen and experienced. 

2. In the 1990s, I wrote “The Shadow Trilogy” (The Compass, 1993; The Yoni Rocks, 1995; The Mystic Beast, 1997; all published with Empyreal Press, Montreal), books that came from an awareness of the Shadow aspect of the human soul. The Shadow is an important archetype in Jungian psychology; it is made up of what we reject in ourselves and project onto other people. “Owning one’s Shadow” refers to being aware of one’s dark side and being responsible for one’s psychology instead of projecting it onto other people. Writing these three books was an important journey for me; it was a time when I tried to make sense of the first half of my life. 

3. There has always been a “confessional” aspect to my work. Confession is the Shadow’s autobiography. My work, before writing The Compass, was concerned with family, but with The Compass the work became even more intensely confessional, more directly revelatory. It was my Shadow, my darkness that I had to purge. 

4. In Frank Bidart’s essay on confessional poetry, found in Robert Lowell, Collected Poems (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2003), Bidart writes that “Lowell winced at the term” “confessional.” Bidart writes that the common perception of what confessional poetry is suggests “helpless outpouring, secrets whispered with artlessness that is their badge of authenticity, the uncontrolled admission of guilt that attempts to wash away guilt. Or worse: confession of others’ guilt; litanies of victimization.” No poet would want to be identified with this definition of “confessional poetry.” However, Bidart continues, “there is an honorific meaning to the word confession, at least as old as Augustine’s Confessions: the earnest, serious recital of the events of one’s life crucial in the making of the soul.” The important point here is that confessional poetry, today so discredited among poets and critics, is concerned with “the making of the soul.” This is the definition of confessional poetry to which I subscribe.