"What do Calgary people read?"

by Shaun Hunter


A full-page spread explores the question in the Calgary Daily Herald, October 4, 1913 (screenshot from Newspapers.com)

So asked the Calgary Daily Herald one hundred years ago, in the autumn of 1913.

“There is no more interesting index of the mind of a people than the class of the books they read. It may not be an all-round gauge, but it gives a very significant glimpse into their character.”

The Herald’s intrepid anonymous reporter was breathless with questions.

There is no more interesting index of the mind of a people than the class of the books they read. It may not be an all-round gauge, but it gives a very significant glimpse into their character.
— Calgary Daily Herald

“Do Calgarians read fiction, or poetry, or history, or all three, and in what proportion? Are they interested in the old English classics, or do they stick pretty closely to modern writers? Of the latter, do they prefer those whom the literary critics tell us are to be ranked highest, or do they with an obstinate disregard for literary critics choose those who are the lesser artists, but whom they find more interesting? Do they read for pleasure or profit? Is their reading confined to those books that merely amuse and divert, or have they an interest in the “literature of knowledge” as well? Do they prefer American and Canadian writers to British and foreign? Do they, as a matter of fact, read much of anything?”

The reporter headed to the city’s brand-new public library for answers.

Circulation desk at what we now know as the Memorial Park Library (Photo: University of Calgary Libraries)

The handsome sandstone building anchoring what we now call Memorial Park was just over a year old. Our reporter may have detected the lingering aroma of fresh paint.

In the autumn of 1913, Calgarians could find in the library stacks “over 12,000 books, ancient and modern, and as representative a list as could be found anywhere on the continent.”

Of Calgary’s 50,000 residents, six thousand (or 12%) were library members, each one borrowing an average of 24 books a year, with a circulation nearing 120,000 books per annum. A healthy sample for an enquiry into the reading preferences of adult Calgarians.

(A century later, around 60% of Calgarians have a library card. In 2022, we borrowed 16,300,000 physical and digital items.) 

Calgary’s Chief Librarian Alexander Calhoun: “a veritable walking catalogue” (Calgary Herald, Oct 4, 1913)

Back in 1913, the Herald posed its questions to the city’s chief librarian. Alexander Calhoun “is a regular mine of information. He is, in fact, a veritable walking catalogue and more than that, he has all the information well arranged and tabulated in his mind and knows exactly what books patrons of the library prefer.”

First things first: “Are Calgary people… very great readers?”

Mr. Calhoun responded with data. “The circulation of books per capita in a year is two.” In older North American cities with established library systems, this number would be considered high. “It is plain, therefore, that Calgary is distinctly a city of readers.” 

But what kind of books in particular do Calgarians like to read? Mr. Calhoun took the reporter on a tour of the library shelves.

Works by William Shakespeare “are borrowed widely and frequently”

The Herald’s most “illuminating discovery”? Calgarians read Shakespeare. The Bard’s works “are borrowed widely and frequently.” For the reporter, “this is something in the nature of a reassurance.”

The most popular genre for Calgary library patrons? Fiction, hands down.

Alexandre Dumas “stands highest… in the hearts” of Calgary readers. “A whole shelf is devoted to his bulky volumes – The Three Musketeers, The Black Tulip, The Count of Monte Cristo, Marguerite de Valois.”

In 1913, George Eliot’s Mill on the Floss and Silas Marner were three times as popular as Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe.

Calgarians also favour Charles Dickens, William Thackery and Sir Walter Scott. George Eliot and Robert Louis Stevenson are popular, too.

When it comes to “modern” British writers:  Calgarians love the novels of W. J. Locke, Stanley Weyman, Sir James Barrie, Rudyard Kipling, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

As for “foreign” novelists, Calgarians prefer Leo Tolstoy and Jules Verne. Bestselling French novelist Anatole France is “not read at all, except by a limited few.”

Favourite American novelists? Winston Churchill (no relation to the British statesman), Jack London and Rex Beach. Topping those is Owen Wister, the writer inspired by the legendary Bar U cowboy, Everett C. Johnson.

It is not altogether surprising that the most popular single book in the library is Owen Wister’s The Virginian
— Calgary Daily Herald

“It is not altogether surprising that the most popular single book in the library is Owen Wister’s The Virginian… That it is popular here in the west, where no writer can palm off a tale of the plains that rings false – is perhaps the highest tribute that could be paid.”

(Rumour has it that Wister came to town in 1912 to take in the Calgary Stampede and visit the inspiration for his novel, former Bar U cowboy Everett Johnson then living in the city.)

Do Calgarians read Canadian writers? In 1913, Ralph Connor (aka the Reverend Charles Gordon who once served the Presbyterians of Canmore) is the most popular choice. Sir Gilbert Parker’s historic novels set in French Canada runs a close second while L. M. Montgomery is a favourite “among the young ladies of Calgary.” Stephen Leacock “is read considerably,” as are Marion Keith, Charles G. D. Roberts and Robert E. Knowles.

Poetry… is by no means sneered at by Calgarians
— Calgary Daily Herald

What about verse? “Poetry… is by no means sneered at by Calgarians. Which may be one of the most cheerful signs that we gather from this little excursion into the Calgarian’s mind.”

Robert J. C. Stead: a Calgary-based journalist and writer dubbed “the prairie poet”

Favourites include Rudyard Kipling, Robert W. Service, Pauline Johnson (“that sweet singer of the Six Nations”), and Calgary’s own Robert J. C. Stead. (By day, the man dubbed “the prairie poet” worked as a journalist at city daily The Morning Albertan.) The American poet John Lomax’s Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads “also gets the Calgary ear.”

The reporter is curious to learn that Archibald Lampman – “our greatest Canadian poet” – is unread by Calgary readers. “Perhaps he is too much of the east, and sings too persistently of the older provinces, knowing not the prairies and the mountains which we love.”

We in Calgary apparently like the poet who will sing to us of the virginal strength and vigor of our sweeping plains and towering mountains.
— Calgary Daily Herald

As for English Romantic and Victorian poets: “those who read them do so in their own volumes” and study them in “literary clubs.” (In 1913, the Calgary Women’s Literary Club was discussing Robert Browning’s works at their meetings on the Library’s second floor.)

Calgary readers love drama. Not only Shakespeare, but Maurice Maeterlinck and George Bernard Shaw. As well, Ibsen “the gloomy Norseman is read with seeming avidity” and Oscar Wilde “the eccentric English genius, enjoys a wide popularity.”

An early Calgary motorist with a penchant for George Bernard Shaw? (Photo: University of Calgary Libraries)

As for “philosophical works”: “Such deep thinkers as Nietzsche, the German who went mad with thinking, and who propounded the theory of the ‘Superman’ that Bernard Shaw has taken up, has seemingly a strange attraction for Calgarians.” As for Shaw’s appeal: “Perhaps Calgary, being a city of motorists, enjoyed his delineation of the modern chauffeur in Man and Superman.

“As to essays, the experience in Calgary, as elsewhere, is that the essay form is not very popular with the general reader nowadays…. People who like literature for itself, and not primarily for a story – and there are not a few in Calgary” favour the essays of E. V. Lucas, G. K. Chesterton and Dr. Henry Vandyke.” Lovers of the essay, though, seem to buy collections by these writers for their own libraries. In 1913, the public library’s copies are not often signed out.

Calgarians’ favourite historical hero back in 1913

Calgary’s favourite “historical hero”? None other than the Little Corporal… Lives of Napoleon are incessantly in demand.” After Bonaparte, Abraham Lincoln and George Washington – “which may indicate only that our American citizens are greater readers of biography than we Canadian born.”

The most popular local biography? Father Lacombe: The Black-Robe Voyageur by the Edmonton-based writer Katherine Hughes.

Books on technical subjects are in great demand – “natural in an industrial city.” “Well thumbed” sociology books are evidence that Calgarians are also interested in social behaviour and relationships. In 1913, books in “psychic research” are also flying off the shelves.

After a vigorous session in the library with Mr. Calhoun, our intrepid reporter came away with a few insights.

We are by no means a community of ‘base materialists’ with no other interest but the acquisition of real estate and the chase for gold.
— Calgary Daily Herald, Oct 4, 1913

“To sum up all, it may be said that Calgarians are omnivorous readers. Their range of taste is of the widest… There is at least enough to show that Calgarians have a healthy and growing interest in good literature and that we are by no means a community of ‘base materialists’ with no other interest but the acquisition of real estate and the chase for gold. That we, to some extent appreciate our own native writers is one of the most encouraging facts that one derives from this tentative examination.”

Encouraging words about the readers of a young city perched on the future a century ago.

If you’d like to read the literary tea leaves on current Calgary favourites and muse about what our most-borrowed books say about our collective character, check out these lists from the Herald and the Calgary Public Library. In 2022, fiction still rules, local writers are in the mix, and Calgarians are keen to improve themselves.

 


Comic Relief

by Shaun Hunter


I’ve placed four new pins on Calgary’s digital literary map – all of them involving people who use pictures to tell stories, and a comic book store that operated in a long-gone heritage building downtown.

Marvel’s “Shootout at the Stampede!” May 1, 1979 (image via xmenpodcast.com)

Alberta University of the Arts (formerly known as ACAD)

Celebrated comic book writer and artist John Byrne (1950-) grew up in Calgary and attended art college here in the early 1970s. According to a 2006 profile in Swerve Magazine, Byrne spent his time at art college wearing a cape, “crusading against art elitists,” and creating a superhero parody for SAIT’s student newspaper.

A decade after leaving Calgary, Byrne launched Alpha Flight, a Canadian superhero series for Marvel Comics. In 1983, the series touched down in Calgary for an issue called “Shootout at the Stampede!” along with the character Shaman, a doctor from the Tsuut’ina Nation bordering Calgary. (You’ll find a pin at the Stampede Grounds for John Byrne, too.)

Also at AUA: award-winning illustrator and graphic novelist Jillian Tamaki studied Visual Communication Design here (more on Tamaki below).

Todd McFarlane’s Spawn (Photo: mcfarlane.com)

William Aberhart High School

Comic book creator and writer Todd McFarlane (1961-) started drawing comic-book characters while attending William Aberhart High School in the late 1970s. His character Spawn took shape in those early doodles. In the 1990s while working on Marvel Comics Spider-Man, McFarlane updated Spawn and unleashed his violent anti-hero into the world.


Jillian Tamaki’s 2014 graphic novel This One Summer

Lake Bonavista

Jillian Tamaki (1980-) grew up in Lake Bonavista and graduated from E. P. Scarlett High School in the late 1990s where she created zines for fun. As a student at ACAD (now Alberta University of the Arts), Tamaki became interested in alternative and indie comics. She has published several books, won two Governor General’s Literary Awards and a Caldecott Honor. Tamaki’s work has appeared in many publications including The Walrus, The New Yorker and The New York Times.

"Cartoon from the 'Calgary Eye Opener', Calgary, Alberta.", 1916-07-08, (CU1155007) by Unknown. Courtesy of Libraries and Cultural Resources Digital Collections, University of Calgary.

Crown Block – 709 1st SE (now Telus Convention Centre)

In the early 1980s, Dreamland Comics operated in the Crown Block, the building that stood on this site until it was demolished in 1997. Illustrious Calgary journalist Bob Edwards briefly operated his satiric weekly the Calgary Eye Opener here around 1907, often featuring cartoons.


The Old Central Library

by Shaun Hunter


Through the Eyes of Writers

The Old Central Library in the 1970s (Photo: Calgary Public Library Williams & Harris Shared History Centre)

This Friday, the W. R. Castell Library closes its doors to make way for the opening of Calgary’s New Central Library next week. After 55 years of service, the building will revert to the city. (I hope the city preserves Robert Oldrich’s enamelled metal sculpture installed on the MacLeod Trail side of the building. Calgary-based Oldrich [1920-1983] said his library mural “depicts pages of books, stained glass to show age, art… and the feeling of old and new.”)

Whatever happens with the old Central Library, it will live on in the city’s literature. Here’s a reading list, in homage to the Castell.

Doris Anderson, Rebel Daughter: An Autobiography (1996)

The long-time editor of Chatelaine magazine, Doris Anderson grew up in 1920s Calgary on the block that would one day house the Castell Library. In her memoir, she describes the streetscape of her childhood. “A livery barn stood across the road from our house, and a blacksmith shop was just down the street. Horses were far more common than cars at that time and were used to pull milk, bread, and ice wagons.”

Douglas Kennedy, Leaving the World (2009)

A suicidal American woman on the run from her past builds a new life in Calgary. Jane Howard finds work at the Castell as a rare book buyer. Her new circle includes the chief cataloguer and music librarian. Kennedy, a bestselling American novelist, worked on Leaving the World during a stay at the Post Hotel in nearby Lake Louise.

Nerys Parry, Man & Other Natural Disasters (2011)

Set in 1990s Calgary, this novel tells the story of a middle-aged book repairer with a dark secret who has worked for 30 years in the basement of the Castell Library. This is how he describes his place of work: “If you looked at the library from the C-train stop at Seventh Avenue, you would be forgiven for confusing it with an upmarket whorehouse, the way the neon light runs up the grey brick side like a laced hem on a stockinged thigh, the words staining your retina like a pink-red kiss.”

Lori Hahnel, “We Had Faces Then,” Nothing Sacred (2009)

“We do help people find books,” says the long-time library staffer who narrates this short story. “But a lot of other things go on, too.” Hahnel’s story explores the real and imagined dangers of working at the old Central Library.

The Castell Library also pops up in Rona Altrows’s short story collection A Run on Hose (2006), Suzanne North’s novel Flying Time (2014) and David A. Poulsen’s mystery novel Last Song Sung (2018).


Stephen Avenue

by Shaun Hunter


through the eyes of writers

Calgary's Stephen Avenue circa 1907-1912 (Photo: Calgary Public Library Postcards from the Past)

A few of the books (and one essay) I talked about on my literary walk of Stephen Avenue during Historic Week Calgary. If you have others to add to the list, please send them my way.

 

J. Ewing Ritchie, Pictures of Canadian Life (1886) – This English author was one of the first literary tourists to spend time on Stephen Avenue. After a short stay among the cowboys and wild dogs, he determined “it is clear I must not tarry at Calgary too long.”

Rudyard Kipling, Letters to the Family (1908) – After a whirlwind tour down Stephen Ave, the man the Herald called “the greatest of all literary men” declared Calgary “the wonder city of Canada.”

Frederick Niven, Canada West (1930) & The Flying Years (1942) – This BC-based author captures the changing landscape of the street in two of his books about the Canadian West.

Bob Edwards, “The Eye Opener Road Race of 1906,” Eye Opener (Dec 25,1920) – The bard of early Calgary describes a drunken romp down Stephen Avenue with his special cocktail of fact and fiction. You can read the full version in Grant MacEwan's Eye Opener Bob: The Story of Bob Edwards.

 

Isabel Paterson, The Shadow Riders (1917) – In her first novel, Paterson draws upon her own experience as a single woman living in Calgary during the height of the pre-WW I real estate boom.

 

 

 

Marina Endicott, The Little Shadows (2012) – A travelling vaudeville sister act performs at the Starland Theatre, one door west of today’s James Joyce Pub.

Nancy Huston, Plainsong (1993) – Calgary-born, Paris-based Huston takes us curbside for the 1912 Stampede Parade, held on Labour Day weekend on 8th Avenue.

Yvonne Trainer, Tom Three Persons (2002) – This biographical poem about the legendary Kanai bronco champion from Standoff, AB also touches down on 8th Avenue during the first Stampede.

Doris Anderson, Rebel Daughter: An Autobiography (1996) – The one-time editor of Chatelaine grew up in a house where the W. R. Castell Library now stands, and writes about the Englishness of 8th Avenue during her 1920 and 1930s Calgary childhood.

Margaret Sadler Gilkes, Ladies of the Night (1989) – Post-war 8th Avenue and its surrounding blocks come to life in this memoir by one of city’s the first female beat cops.

Don McLeod, “Remembering Jaffe’s Book & Music Exchange,” Canadian Notes & Queries (Spring 2000) – McLeod recalls adolescent visits to this 8th Avenue literary landmark, demolished in 1980 to make way for the Performing Arts Centre.

Derek Besant & John Dean, EastEnd (2007) – Two Calgary artists explore the “sidewalk culture” of the 300 block of 8th Avenue in 1975, through a “cinemagraphic narrative” and black-and-white photographs.

Bruce Hunter, “The Many Happy Returns of Kenny Dawes,” Country Music Country (1996) – Set circa 1980, this short story travels the 8th Avenue of Hunter’s own Calgary adolescence and a landscape of “ghost buildings.”

Aritha van Herk, Restlessness (1998) – On a walking tour, the novel’s narrator points out a few key sites on Stephen Avenue to her assassin companion.

Lori Hahnel, Love Minus Zero (2008) – The legendary Long Bar at the Alberta Hotel makes a cameo appearance in Hahnel’s punk rock novel.

Stuart Ian McKay, Stele of Several Ladies (2004) – In this long poem, McKay haunts Stephen Avenue, past and present.

Katherine Govier, Between Men (1987) – Stephen Avenue circa 1889 winds its way through this novel about historic and contemporary Calgary.

Barry Callaghan, “A Sadness at the Heart of Calgary (Saturday Night, Nov 1983) – In this essay, the Toronto writer picks a literary fight on a street he finds as soulless as the city.

John Ballem, Alberta Alone (1981) – The violence in Ballem’s political thriller was a lightning rod for Barry Callaghan. Ballem would go on to write several novels about the city’s oil patch informed by his front-row seat as an oil-and-gas lawyer. On a previous walking tour, someone told me that Ballem’s secretary typed his manuscripts in his Scotia Centre office high above Stephen Avenue.

Norman Ravvin, Café des Westens (1991) – Calgary-born Ravvin wrote his first novel set in and about 1980s Calgary in response to Callaghan’s claim that Calgary had no “imaginative shape.”


Calgary Tower

by Shaun Hunter


through the eyes of writers

In honour of the Calgary Tower's 50th birthday, here's a literary tour of a city icon. If you know of other sightings of the Calgary Tower in fiction, poetry or essay, send them my way. 

For a little Tower trivia, check out CBC Calgary's 2017 photo essay. Photos of the Calgary Tower in my post come from the Calgary Public Library's Williams & Harris Shared History Centre.

 

“Calgarians have invented for themselves a new Rorschach test. It is no ink spot on a folded page, but a smooth tower of concrete with a revolving restaurant on top."

-- Robert Kroestch, Alberta (1968)

 

“Pretty nearly, the only six-hundred-foot concrete erection in the British Commonwealth. With a May basket balanced on its tip – that twinkled with coloured lights at night. […] And […] a red oil derrick to spear the last fifty feet.”

-- W. O. Mitchell, The Vanishing Point (1973)

 

 

“I ascend skeptically. But eat my lunch convinced by the voracious view. The mountains like giant white coral on the horizon. The Bow River winding as an ongoing park through the city. […] Capsule view of a metropolis aborning.”

-- Scott Symons, “Calgary: a Leacock town on the Prairies” (1979)

 

“You go up the elevator expecting to get a panoramic view of the city and what do you find – goddamn pinball machines. Hundreds of them being played by a herd of juvenile delinquents whose only interest in life is getting three free games on the Big Whizzer.”

-- Tyler Trafford, Entropia (1980)

 

“Anyway the tower looked to Tessie like a man’s you know what and she couldn’t resist telling Flora that it was the biggest one she’d ever seen – and she had seen a few in her time.”

-- Edna Alford, “Half-Past Eight” (1981)

 

 

 

 

“We talked a great deal over dinner that night, and our guest made a comment as we noted how the once solitary arrogance of the Calgary Tower, the subject of much local ribaldry, had been chastened by the competition. “Calgary,” he said, “seems to be under erasure.”

-- Ian Adam, Foreword, Glass Canyons (1985)

“The building of his tower was pure Calgary. Calgary was serving notice that, while the city with the big Stampede was satisfied with its progress during Canada’s first century, it expected a much bigger piece of the action the second 100 years.”

-- Fred Stenson, The Story of Calgary (1994)  

 

“The whole city lay like a map below him. It was still, as if no people lived in it. If you looked closely you could see cars moving, but they moved slowly and silently.”

– Martine Leavitt, Tom Finder (2003)

 

 

 

“We turn down an alleyway and slink past the bold black geometry of fire escapes, stage entrances, stairs fleeing back doors. A construction crane slowly revolves over the rooftops while the Calgary Tower preens in the flattering glass surface behind Ark’s pawnshop.”

-- Lesley Battler, “Calgarius Mundi” (2004)

 

“When he reached downtown, it had grown dark. A young man in a tired baseball cap stood just outside the doors of the concrete tower, and sullenly, without any greeting, he began making arrangements with Samuel.”

-- Edi Edugyan, The Second Life of Samuel Tyne (2004)

 

“He’d been ordered to cause minimal damage to the tower. Well, tell that to the troops up there, four on the top landing now, dishing out a steady stream of rifle fire punctuated with the occasional smoke and fragmentation grenade.”

-- Tom Clancy & David Michaels, Endwar (2008)

  

Four city blocks away, through a high, thin gap in the monolithic concrete mass of downtown, he could see, suspended like a lighthouse in the sky, the beacon of the Calgary Tower.”

-- Eugene Meese, A Magpie’s Smile (2009) 

 

iu-4.jpeg

“The convoy [of unicorns] pulls to a brief stop at the red light, in the deserted heart of downtown, under the ring of red lights on the alicorn that is the Calgary Tower.”

-- Suzette Mayr, Monoceros (2011)

 

 

“the snow-white wall / the Cinderella sky/ the beauty and the beast light […] / I saw Rapunzel peeking out / her hair falling down"

– Emily Xu, “Rapunzel’s Tower” (2014)

“She’ll scale the Tower, / shoot the rapids below 14th Street, scramble through suburbs.”

– Angela Rae Waldie, “Lines Written on a Map of Calgary” (2014)

 

“And as the sun sets on the chatter and speculation, the Husky Tower burns splendid and tall in the warm soft night, in the caressing Chinooks that blow down over the Rockies. This is the city’s long, hard, and enduring dream.”

-- Robert Kroestch, Alberta (1968)


W. O. Mitchell's Ladybug, Ladybug

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary through the eyes of writers

Cottonwood snow in North Glenmore Park, early June  (Photo: Shaun Hunter)

Read Ladybug, Ladybug and you will see the corner of Calgary where W. O. Mitchell once lived. The novel doesn’t name the neighbourhood but it is clearly Roxboro – a few square blocks tucked below an escarpment in a bend of the Elbow River – where Mitchell and his family lived from 1968 until his death in 1998, at 3031 Roxboro Glen Road SW. The action in Ladybug, Ladybug revolves around a retired university professor and a psychotic university student bent on revenge, but the Calgary landscape often steals the novelist’s attention. The ancient buffalo jump a stone’s throw from the professor’s house. The carillon from the Catholic church nearby. The inner-city wildlife – “And there goes the neighbourhood, you urban squirrels and field mice, mallard ducklings in river-bank nests, gophers and garter snakes, rabbits and Chinese ring-necked pheasants.” Calgary’s strange weather also makes an appearance: spring chinooks – “the season conning people into thinking the world was simply wonderful” – and the cottonwood snow of a Calgary June.

 

“It’s snowing!” She was right.

It was as though an absent-minded morning had forgotten it was June. The air was bewildered with white down freed from the cottonwood trees in the park to float and to fall and to drift against curbs and parked cars and house foundations, skiffing sidewalks, lawns, and hedges.

 

W. O. Mitchell, Ladybug, Ladybug (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1988)


W. Mark Giles' "Knucklehead"

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary through the eyes of writers

The "Crestview" neighbourhood in Mark Giles' story resembles Calgary's Fairview: a community developed in the late 1950s in keeping with the principles of the "Neighbourhood Unit Concept." According to the then-city planning director, Fairview's various features would make it a "thoroughly desirable place to live." (Image & quotation from Robert Stamp's Suburban Modern: Postwar Dreams in Calgary, 2004)

Colm and his young family have settled down in a bungalow in the SE Calgary suburbs. But his post-war neighbourhood-in-transition near Heritage Drive is anything but peaceful: Colm and his next door neighbour are at war. There's the Harley Davidson fired up on Sundays and left to rumble in the yard. The steady stream of visitors – pizza and dial-a-bottle delivery guys, bikers, college students, business men, matrons – people dropping things off, and picking things up. And a yappy Yorkshire terrier that never shuts up. In the din of his neighbour’s life, Colm concocts a plan.

 

He will build a fence. The highest fence allowed by law. A thick, high, soundproof impenetrable fence. A fence without chinks or cracks between boards. He will allow no knotholes through which to peer, no handholds or footholds on which to hoist oneself. A fence sunk into the ground under which no small dog, no rodent, no child can burrow. A Berlin Wall, a Great Wall of China, a Hadrian’s Wall, a Maginot Line. When he finishes the fence, he will plant a high hedge, a hedge that will grow skyward past the fence, past the height of the house itself. A thick, high hedge.

He has downloaded the development permit application and all the necessary supporting documents from the city website (the same website where he accessed the Animal Control Bylaw). He spends every tidbit of spare time planning and designing the fence. He uses his laptop and the CADD tools from his work. He knows how much concrete he will need for the foundation and the pillars, how many pallets of cinder blocks, how much sand, how many cubic feet of earth he will need to displace. He knows how much it will cost. He develops a budget and construction schedule. He refines the design, consults his engineering references, revised and revised again. The fence will be a marvel. The fence will be a neighbourhood landmark. He will name it.

 

 

W. Mark Giles, “Knucklehead,” Knucklehead & Other Stories (Vancouver: Anvil Press, 2003)


Craig Davidson's Precious Cargo

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

Calgary school buses at rest. (Photo: Calgary Sun)

Craig Davidson’s year of a driving a special needs school bus in Calgary is almost over. He has come to love the six children on his route at the southern edge of the city. “A bus full of nerds,” he calls them: people as quirky as he is. Driving a school bus has changed him. When he started the job, he was facing failure as an aspiring writer and despair. Now he finds himself at the centre of a small, astonishing community. On his last week on the job, he wakes to the spring cawing of magpies. He drives up MacLeod Trail to the impound lot to pick up his bus, and, settled behind the wheel, joins the convoy of school buses, “a stately yellow flotilla, dispersing into the urban grid.” At his first stop, he picks up Jake, a wheel-chair-bound kid with cerebral palsy: a storyteller like Davidson, and a kindred spirit. As Davidson continues along his familiar route of “sleepy thorough-fares and cul-de-sacs,” he reflects on the kids on his Calgary school bus and his remarkable year.

 

They rode because their parents told them to and they obeyed. But, I thought: the odd moment may persist.

Maybe it would be that afternoon in January when I had to get the bus inspected, which made me late. Darkness was falling by the time everyone was on board. A flash squall touched down. Snow curled over the Rockies on a bone-searching wind that screamed through seams in the airframe, rocking the bus on its axles. We charted a path on roads frozen to black glass. Snowflakes glittered in the headlights like a million airborne razor blades. I’d merged with a rural highway on the city’s southernmost scrim. The glow of car headlights pooled up and across the night rises. The moisture of six bodies fogged the windshield; I’d rolled down the window and wind howled with such force that the tears forced out of my eyes were vaporized before they touched my ears. The tires lost traction on a strip of black ice and hit the rumble strips before returning to the tarmac. My fists were gripped fierce to the wheel – which was when Jake began to sing.

It’s cold outside, there’s no kind of atmosphere

I’m all alone, more or less…

Darkness wrapped tight to the bus, snow pelted the windows, and Jake belted out the theme song to Red Dwarf in a high clear British-accented contralto.

…Let me fly, far away from here

Fun, fun, fun, in the sun, sun, sun…

 

Craig Davidson, Precious Cargo: My Years Driving the Kids on School Bus 3077 (Toronto: Alfred A Knopf, 2016)


Nerys Parry's Man and Other Natural Disasters

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

Cottonwood season in Calgary (Photo: Shaun Hunter)

A middle-aged man who repairs books at the Central Library and lives in a Chinatown apartment with his frail gay lover. A young woman who comes to the city with a wave of Ontario migrants who “seed the city with fancy coffees and bagel bars.” A novel that wanders the streets of 1990s Calgary in all kinds of weather.

 

The poplars that line the residential streets are pollinating, and a snow of yellow covers everything – the roofs, the paths, the parked cars. It collects in gutters and eaves troughs, in the small cracks in the sidewalk. It is as though a second winter has descended on the city.

It is not so easy, here, to shake off the long months of cold. They cling to you like guilt, and for so long, you almost can’t believe there is such a thing as the forgiveness of spring.

 

Nerys Parry, Man & Other Natural Disasters (Winnipeg: Enfield & Wizenty, 2011)


Elaine Morin's "Digging in Heels"

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

Nose Hill Park: a centuries-old place for ceremony, burials and writers' imaginations. (Photo: calgary.ca)

Four women climb Nose Hill at dusk. Gail leads the way, carrying the remains of a cocker spaniel named King Louie in her arms. It's her daughter's dog, but Hannah is travelling in Southeast Asia – out of contact and leaving Gail to bury King Louie on Nose Hill.

 

Gail shifted the knee supporting her bundle and glanced at the darkening sky. This was her walk, her undertaking, and there they were, without an ounce of solemnity, yakking away. She would have felt better if Corine hadn’t brought Tessa, another of her pet students in the Faculty of Education. Tessa in high-heeled boots of all things, and some sort of bohemian shawl. At this rate it would take them another hour to reach the site. She was used to being here with Hannah, maybe that was it. They’d begun these nocturnal walks together – had even agreed to bury King Louie up here when the time came. She supposed it was odd to discuss the dog’s death so much before the fact, as if Hannah was waiting. And to bury him here, and not the back garden with the hamsters, but here, on this desolate glacial drumlin. Maybe it was the precarious nature of Nose Hill that drew Hannah, the way it was situated in the city, besieged by an ever expanding mass of neighbourhoods. Or the way the weather could turn.

 

Elaine Morin, “Digging in Heels,” Castration Lessons and Other Stories (Calgary: Secret Layer Press, 2008)


Susan Calder's "Adjusting the Ashes"

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

View of Calgary from Scotsman's Hill circa 1906 (Photo: Calgary Public Library Postcards from the Past)

Carol, an insurance adjuster, is wide awake at 4 a.m. Her doctor tells her perimenopause is making her restless. In her den in West Hillhurst, she glances at the line of cards celebrating her 50th birthday. CAROL BEFORE… reads one. CAROL AFTER? She turns her attention to the insurance claim on her desk. Harvey Ashe swallowed a mouse in his beer. She’s arranged a meeting at the claimant’s house in Ramsay. Little does she know that during her visit, this working-class couple’s insurance claim will not be the only thing that will be adjusted.

 

Two-storey cottages with porches and peaked roofs slope up the street toward Scotsman’s Hill, where Carol and Andy used to bring the girls to watch the Stampede fireworks. A trio of brightly painted homes, with neat flower boxes, suggest that the neighbourhood, like her West Hillhurst one, is moving upscale. But it’s far from there, Carol thinks, as she parallel parks behind a beat-up Civic. A Handi-bus rumbles past the claimants’ house, which looks in desperate need of new siding and windows. A plastic sheet covers the upstairs dormer. Carol grabs her briefcase and clacks up the sidewalk and uneven front steps, thinking, if she falls, she’ll file a countersuit against the Ashes. After scanning the chipped paint for a doorbell, she knocks and waits on the porch, where the mouse eating incident occurred.

 

Susan Calder, “Adjusting the Ashes,” Alberta Views (Nov/Dec 2003). A revised version of the story appears in Writing Menopause (Toronto: Inanna, 2017).


David A. Poulsen's Serpents Rising

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

Aerial view of Inglewood from 9th Avenue SE, 2009. Poulsen sets much of the action in his mystery novel in and around Inglewood, Calgary's oldest neighbourhood.  (Photo: Calgary Public Library Community Heritage and Family History Special Collection)

Adam Cullen, a freelance crime journalist has two investigations on the go: searching for a teenage crack addict and finding the person who killed his wife eight years before. As Cullen scours the city for clues, he always stops to eat. His favourite spots? Calgary landmarks like Kane’s Harley Diner, Peters’ Drive-in and Diner Deluxe. In this scene set near the Harley Diner in Inglewood, Cullen meets his private investigator friend at a used bookstore (Fair's Fair?) before heading back into Calgary’s quirky geography.

 

He nodded a couple of times, then pointed a thumb back in the direction of the bookstore.

“This guy mentioned an old warehouse not far from here. Some company was supposed to turn it into lofts. When the economy softened, the company folded and the place has been sitting vacant. Mostly squatters there now.”

“Worth a try,” I said.

“My thinking exactly.”

We headed for the car, walking fast. The cold was intensifying. I was hoping Jeep made good heaters.

I didn’t have time to find out. The drive to the warehouse didn’t take long enough for the heater to generate more than cold, then merely cool, air. We were on a street that whoever built it had forgotten to finish. South of 9th Avenue a couple of blocks, then left. A sign told us it was Garry Street. Looking east, we could see that it just kind of stopped. Dead-ended up against a hill that probably shouldn’t have been there. I pictured a gaggle of 1930s engineers working on their drawings and noticing the hill after the street was started. Saying screw it and moving on to another project.

 

David A. Poulsen, Serpents Rising (Toronto: Dundurn, 2014)


Bob Stallworthy's "Reading about Life"

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

Annie Vigna (aka Wesko) ran her bookstore on 16th Avenue North between 1996 and 2007. The widening of the avenue in 2005 contributed to her decision to wrap up the business. Annie's Books lives on in the hand-crafted lectern at the Alexandra Writers' Centre. (Photo: Annie Wesko)

Sixteenth Avenue North: a 26.5-kilometre stretch of the Trans-Canada Highway, an urban artery, and in the 1990s, on a few blocks near 10th Street West, a neighbourhood of bookstores. Bob Baxter was first on the block, opening his used bookshop in 1960. In 1996, Annie Vigna, with a degree in Russian literature in hand and a sense of entrepreneurial adventure, bought the shop and made it her own – a place for bookhounds, Red Hatters and writers. On a spring weekend, poet Bob Stallworthy takes us inside a literary reading at Annie’s Book Company where art mingles with the avenue.

 

in a bookshop on sixteenth avenue

we spend the first nice Spring Sunday

poets tell us about somebody else’s life

 

hell there is life here too

the shelves in this store are stacked

floor to ceiling with it

 

we take it all very seriously

words in shouts    squeals   whispers

from the mouths of readers

backdropped by the street

that screams in blue and red flashing lights

going east

rumbles in eighteen forward gears

heading west

 

while quietly shelved second-hand words

and windows focus sunlight

from out there

on our word dust

hanging in the air in here

 

Bob Stallworthy, Optics (Frontenac House, 2004)


Ali Bryan's "The Rink"

by Shaun Hunter


Calgary Through the Eyes of Writers

Calgarians skating on the Elbow River, circa 1913. (Photo: Calgary Public Library Postcards from the Past)

All winter, Ali Bryan watches her husband build a skating rink in their Calgary backyard. Hoses take over the kitchen; the back gate is frozen shut. She wonders what he is thinking as he stands night after night in the cold adding a new layer of water on top of a plastic tarp. When the rink is ready, Bryan marvels at what her husband has constructed. In spring, the ice thaws but the dream of his rink endures.

 

It is April and the un-bungeed part of the tarp blows in the wind, at one point folding itself in half over the portion of the rink that has not yet melted. Along the fence, the ice is still eight inches thick. From the neighboring road it’s an eyesore. I pull back the tarp; anchor it down with rocks like it’s a picnic blanket. Methodically, I chip away at the remaining ice. Assaulting it with a shovel, then flinging the blocks into the green space beyond the yard. It is both therapeutic and exhausting. I work alone in the quiet of the afternoon, undoing the layers. Stripping away the hours of time my husband spent in the darkness of winter building the rink. I can’t tell if the ice looks negative or positive, beautiful or deformed. It is just heavy. Weighed down by the private thoughts of its maker, those profound and those superficial. Him. I debate whether to stop because it feels like I’m dismantling something sacred. Like I’m cutting down a tree. But I keep working because it’s almost May and the grass beneath the tarp has been buried for almost six months. I suspect it craves sunlight and air the way we all do after a long winter. I detach the tarp, fold it into a shapeless heap by the edge of the fence and stand ankle deep in the yard. The remains of the rink, now a watery graveyard of thoughts, from which summer will emerge.

 

Ali Bryan, “The Rink,” 40 Below: Alberta’s Winter Anthology, Volume 2 (Edmonton: Wufniks Press, 2015)