The Walrus (July/August 2013)

I was in the mall this week, searching for a new bathing suit and somehow I wandered into a bookstore. How it happened, I don’t know.  I mean, books and bathing suits are very separate things. While browsing the magazine rack, I skimmed over all the fluffy women and fashion magazines—I never read that garbage—and my eyes fell upon a magazine titled The Walrus.

Maybe it was the word “Canadian” on the cover, or perhaps the hook headline, “six exciting new Canadian writers.” Maybe it was the name “Justin Trudeau” in bold print above the magazine title. Whatever it was, I came out of the shop having paid $6.95 for a magazine I’d never heard of before.  I’m not sorry.

The Walrus, judging from my first impression, takes a liberal attitude and a leftist ideology towards most issues. Three highlights of the July/August edition are, an article on a five-day Shambhala festival, a Woodstock-style music festival in BC, a piece on Justin Trudeau, describing how emotional appeal and intelligence combined with reason, rule over reason alone in today’s politics, and a pieced called “Troubled Waters,” describing the life and demise of a Government funded lakes research program in North-Western Ontario.

Mixed in with the non-fiction are some short stories. My favourite is Jill Sexsmith’s “Somewhere, A Long, Happy Life Probably Awaits You.”  A man whose wife is dying spends a lot of time thinking about what type of new wife he would like, but when his dying wife latches onto an elm outside their home which is marked for destruction, he builds her a tree house and learns what she means to him. It’s beautiful and definitely worth reading. I came close to shedding a few tears at the end of it.

I found nearly every article in the magazine enjoyable and informative, so I will definitely pick the next issue of The Walrus up off the shelf. If I continue to like it, I may even subscribe. Among all the gossip rags and sugary-thin words of the women’s magazines, I find it refreshing to discover a more intellectual and fully Canadian publication. The Walrus is a Canadian magazine, dealing with Canadian issues and subject matter; this in itself is refreshing. 

Dubliners, by James Joyce (short stories published first in 1914)

James Joyce has the talent of writing engaging, yet subtle stories. There is nothing outrageous or extravagant about the characters or events of Dubliners. The short stories in the volume are gentle snippets of the everyday lives of the people of Dublin, Ireland.

My first taste of James Joyce was in an English class on the short story this past winter. We read “Araby,” one of the stories in Dubliners, and I hated it. I was more enthralled by the works of Alice Munro and John Cheever, but I decided to give Joyce another chance. Dubliners is a classic after all, and I like to think I’m well-versed in classic literature.

My copy was pulled from a recycling bin and, although in good condition, it contains handwritten notes from the previous owner. Normally, these notes would annoy me, but instead I’ve found them quite useful. The reader has slipped in thoughts, historical facts, and links between stories which I found enlightening. Never underestimate the value of a used book. I know I’m going to treasure this one.

Dubliners contains 15 stories. Joyce is especially adept at describing the inner thoughts of his characters. I found myself relating to them. One of my favourites is “Eveline,” the tale of an aborted elopement. Eveline prepares to leave her abusive father and elope with her lover, Frank, but throughout the story she weighs the pros and cons and eventually winds up letting Frank sail away, leaving her on the dock as he calls out to her. I’m sure readers have debated and debated as to why she stayed behind. Maybe she was afraid of her Father? Afraid of a new life? Afraid of letting down her deceased mother? I believe she didn’t go because she wasn’t in love with him. She had looked to him as an escape from a life she didn’t like, but then realized by escaping her father, she’d only be condemning herself to living out her life with a man she didn’t love.

Another great story is “The Dead.” Gabriel attends a party and finds himself uneasy. By the end of the night, his perspective of his aunts, his wife and himself has been altered. “A Mother,” and “Ivy Day in the Committee Room” are also great stories, although I don’t believe there is a single story in the volume which isn’t enjoyable. In the context of the whole work, I can even stomach “Araby,” a story that I previously saw as boring and pointless.

Next time you’re in the mood for some short stories, give James Joyce’s Dubliners a try. You can read all fifteen stories or just a few. Pick up a copy next time you’re at a bookstore. Joyce is a staple for any book collection. 

The Art of War (Sun Tzu)

(Edited with an introduction by Dallas Galvin. Translated by Lionel Giles in 1910) 

Perhaps this seems like a strange book choice for a pacifist, but I make a point of reading the classics. Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was written in the 5^th Century B.C.E and its first English translation made in 1905, but many of Tzu’s points are still relevant today on and off the battlefield. I was delighted to be able to relate Tzu’s words to situations off the battle field.

Many lines that Sun Tzu wrote as simple or straight forward battlefield rhetoric, if taken philosophically, have deep connotative meanings. Maybe I’m still reeling from my recent reading about 1960s counter-culture newspapers, but many of Sun Tzu thoughts could apply to non-violent combat.

For example, Tzu writes, “When you capture new territory, cut it up into allotments for the benefit of the soldiery.” This is good advice for anybody in a position of power. Not only is distributing “territory” fair, but it helps to hold a group or movement together. I wonder how many cultural and social movements have failed because one or two people at the top reaped all the benefits of what was collected, not just in a physical or monetary sense, but in terms of influence?

Putting the previous line and issue aside, another seemingly innocent line also got me thinking. “If those who are sent to draw water begin by drinking themselves, the army is suffering from thirst,” Sun Tzu writes in part IX. Water is a well-known metaphor for many things. Just let your mind wander and think about that one. It’s the perfect metaphor for a society in trouble. What does water represent to you?

The Art of War is all about how to wage war effectively, what a good leader looks likes, and how to read the enemy. One of the more interesting selections is part I, in which Tzu outlines five constant factors which govern war; these being, Moral Law, Heaven, Earth, The Commander, and Method and Discipline. Some of the titles are slightly misleading.

The notes in my copy of the book, which is a paper-back “Barnes and Noble Classic” printing, indicate that Moral Law actually means the degree to which the ruler is in harmony with his subjects. Heaven and Earth are not religious terms, but rather refer to things like the weather and the terrain.

Although I’m against war and violence, I did find Sun Tzu’s book to have great value. Perhaps the coldness of its language can serve as a warning to avoid warfare. The book’s most famous line sums up its coldness. Sun Tzu writes, “All warfare is based on deception.”

If you’re in the mood to think deeply, pick up a copy of The Art of War and give it a read. Another great book on a similar subject is Machiavelli’s The Prince.

Under Ground Times: Canada's Flower Child Revolutionaries, by Ron Verzuh

I always find it interesting, reading a book from the past about the past. This particular title, Under Ground Times, is from the 1980’s, and provides a reflection on the 1960’s. Author Ron Verzuh focuses on Canada’s “underground” counter-culture press during the hippie era. Verzuh stuffs a surprisingly vast amount of information about Canada’s most famous counter-culture publications into the small volume, but what he lacks in specific details, he makes up for in the overall picture he provides. After reading Verzuh’s book I can attest to understanding 1960’s Canada just a little bit better than before.

Verzuh describes two types of the 1960’s counter-culture publications; there are hippie publications and the more serious political publications. Hippie publications concerned themselves with promoting the cultural aspects of the time, covering things like free love, growing your own marijuana, and bizarre artwork. The more serious political publications dealt with topics like the Vietnam War, the October Crisis, socialism, workers rights and the Women’s Rights movement. Of course, many publications brought both worlds together, or fought a battle internally as to which of the two was more important.

The underground publications of the 1960s earned the name “underground” not because they were illegal, but because their content was not accepted by mainstream society or the authorities. Many of the underground publications were harassed by police. In some cases, charges were even laid. A key issue for the publications was freedom of the press, but the main goal of many publications was to challenge the accepted social norms and the mainstream press. 

The Harbindger, a Toronto publication, was taken to court, as was common at the time, on an obscenity charge. On the cover of an issue, they had printed an artist’s representation of a woman giving birth. Likewise, the paper Logos was taken to court for libel after printing and distributing a fake Gazette which claimed the mayor had been “shot” or injected with drugs by a hippie. Although the piece was clearly a satire, Logos was charged.

The underground papers often had creative names. Chapter Six of the book mentions a Winnipeg paper by the name of Omphalos, started by a group of University professors. “Omphalos” is the Greek word for belly button.

I love how Verhuz chooses to tell the personal stories of the men and women who founded the selection of publications he focuses on. The epilogue is especially satisfying; Verhuz describes where the major players from the 60's were in the late 1980s, when Under Ground Times was published.

The 1960s and their counter-culture were interesting times. I’d recommend this book to anyone looking for a passageway to better understand Canada’s 1960s. 

The Last of the Untouchables by Paul Robsky with Oscar Fraley

When I finished The Last of the Untouchables, I had to tape the first 40 pages back in. It’s definitely a keeper. I love rummaging through book sales and second hand stores for titles just like this one. Published in 1962, the books is a memoir, recounting Paul Robsky’s experiences in Al Capone controlled Chicago during prohibition. Robsky was specially appointed to a group of federal prohibition agents created to target Al Capone’s empire.

The book, though short at less than 200 pages, is fantastic. Robsky and Oscar have nothing against alcohol, but they have plenty of reasons for being against organized crime. Smashing up distilleries and arresting rum-runners is their job and they do it well.

One of the more amusing incidents is Robsky’s hunch upon seeing a truck full of rotting cabbage. When they pull the truck over and discover the liquor in the back, one of the drivers laments to the other that they should have bought new cabbage and not reused the heads from their first run.

Most of the book is not as amusing or humorous. The media dubbed the special unit “untouchable” because they could not be bought by Capone’s men, as the majority of the Chicago police force was, but the name is only partly true. Over the years, they discovered three men among them who had turned and were accepting bribes from the mob in return for information about when and where the unit would hit.

More than once, Robsky had to kill a man when a gangster drew a gun. In one particular incident, Robsky winged a gangster who then fell through a roof, was knocked unconscious and drowned in a vat of alcohol before the cops could discover him.

The Last of the Untouchables is entertaining, but chillingly real. The world of the 1930s may not be our world today, but books like this one bring it back to life. 

Nasty Business: One Biker Gang's Bloody War Against the Hells Angels, By Peter Paradis

 Over the past few years I have read a dozen or more books about criminal organizations, but this is not one of the better ones. The narrator and author is a previous Rock Machine member and police informant. Paradis traces his life from his early days as a small time drug dealer, to his position as a big-time dealer and high ranking, full-patch Rock Machine member in Quebec.

The Rock Machine, a motorcycle gang I was slightly familiar with before Nasty Business, was a Canadian club founded in the 1980’s. They were heavily involved in drug trafficking and are known for their rivalry with the Hells Angels in Montreal during the biker war in the late 1990’s. Paradis exited the Rock Machine just before they patched over and traded in their name to become a Bandidos chapter.

If I had been reading fiction, it would have been a great plot, but unfortunately it didn't read so well as an autobiography. The story, at times, doesn’t ring true. For example, when Paradis became an informant, the police told him they could only strike a deal with him if he had never killed or ordered a kill. I feel as though Paradis manipulated the facts surrounding some deaths when he wrote this book to keep himself in the clear. Some of his perspectives on The Rock Machine seem falsified also. His facts don’t match up with other things I've read.

As well, there are many sexually vulgar moments which have little place in the plot as a whole. Paradis appears to have chosen his material more to create a shock value, than to give insight into the biker world, or his life transformation.

My message about this book is don’t bother. Nasty Business is not worth your time. 

The Fat Mexican: The Bloody Rise Of The Bandidos Motorcycle Club, by Alex Caine

The one-percenters are the ones to watch out for. According to Alex Caine, author of the book The Fat Mexican, the Bandidos Motorcycle Club considers themselves part of the 1%, even having a patch in a diamond shape to signify themselves as one-percenters. 99% of motorcyclists, the Bandidos Club says, are law-abiding and 1% are not. The Bandidos, as part of the 1%, no longer consider themselves a part of society. The social contract is not their contract.

I’ve always been fascinated by these so called, “one-percenters,” not just in the biker world, but in the world as a whole. Crime in general fascinates me. Maybe that’s why I end up writing about it. Alex Caine paints his scene exceptionally well, giving first a brief history of the Bandidos, from their start in the United States, to their world wide-expansion and eventually in the 1990s, their move into Canada.

The core of the book focuses on the Canadian history of the Bandidos, from their emergence in Quebec assisting the Rock Machine club in a war against the Hells Angels and to their exit from Canada in 2007, when the remaining Bandidos patched over to the newly re-formed Rock Machine. The key event focused on is the Shedden massacre in Ontario in which eight Toronto Bandidos were killed by Winnipeg Bandidos. The details are sketchy, but the deaths appear to have been retaliation for drugs stolen from the Hells Angels by mistake.

I was intrigued by some of the vocabulary used, such as “church.” In the Bandidos’ slang “church” is a mandatory meeting of all members, not the religious service or the physical building. Also, there is the idea of being “patched-over.” This means having been part of a previous club, you join another. For example, after the 1990’s biker war in Quebec, the Rock Machine Club agreed to be patched-over. In other words, the Rock Machine Club was abolished and they became a charter of the Bandidos Club, wearing Bandidos patches. They changed gangs.

Whether you’re doing research for a new novel, like me, or just reading for pleasure, The Bloody Mexican is a thoroughly enjoyable read with plenty of fact and many uncertainties that keep you wondering. 

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain (2012)

I’m an introvert living in an extrovert’s world. At least, that’s how I feel. I think I’m what Susan Cain, the author of Quiet, refers to as a high-reactive person, meaning my amygdala is easily stimulated. Like most introverts, I like to avoid over stimulation. I may be high-reactive, but my sensitivity is not extreme. I don’t hide in bathrooms anymore, although as a child I did on more than one occasion to avoid being in a social situation. For the most part, I just need alone time and dislike talking in large groups. I’ve learned over the years to handle my introversion and my sensitivity, but I guess I was a sensitive child.

I remember being five or six and going to African Lion Safari. There was a playground in the form of an obstacle course. First, you went down a long slide into a pit of coloured balls. After wading through them, you climbed a ladder, walked through a short wooden structure and climbed down another ladder to the ground. Among all those kids, I was afraid. It was loud, there were people I didn’t know and although the slide had been fun, I wanted to get out. I climbed that first ladder, but the problem was that after that I had to climb down the second ladder. I couldn’t. I was afraid I would fall. I remember the kids who stared at me, and the ones who pushed past me on their way out so they could do it all over again. I tried and tried, putting one foot on the ladder, but never managing to get my whole body over the edge. Finally, my dad came in and lifted me off the platform.

Before I read Susan Cain’s Quiet, I would have described that experience as me simply being scared, the same way I would have described my inability to be confident giving a speech, or to talk to my classmates in middle school. I was the kid everyone called quiet and shy. Unfortunately, my classmates used harsher words, like “weird,” and “eww.” Once, someone even made a comparison between me and a monkey, saying I just stood around with my arms hanging limp and my mouth slightly ajar. I wish I could have told that boy that I kept my lips tightly sealed.

I could never jump straight into a pool, for fear I’d drown. For reasons I couldn’t understand, I could not play a game of volleyball, or give a violin solo or a speech without feeling acute distress. Often, as a child, my cheeks would get hot, my limbs would involuntarily shake, and I’d feel the tears start to prick at my eyes. I was okay, as long as the other kids left me alone. I had a couple friends and that was all I needed, but the social environment I was in, made me feel like there was something wrong with that.

I remember being in grade eight and trying to integrate myself with a group of girls. A very popular girl, who everyone in the pack looked up to, wore a beautiful necklace one day. I would set goals for myself, and that day I told myself I would tell her I liked her necklace. It sounds like a simple task, but with all the people crowded around her, I never could.  

I spent a few years trying to change myself before I found what Susan Cain and psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihayli refer to as flow. Mihaly wrote that, “flow is a state in which you feel totally engaged in an activity . . . you’re neither bored nor anxious, and you don’t question your own adequacy. Hours pass without your noticing.” When I was about fifteen or sixteen, I really began to get into my writing. It was like a validation for who I am. I regularly reach a state of flow these days, and it’s true I lose track of the hours and all anxiety disappears. Cain suggests that introverts have the ability to focus for long periods of time on a task, as it’s true. Apparently introverts are more persistent to finish a task than extroverts because of this increased ability to focus.

While extroverts thrive off the energy they get from being in large groups, introverts thrive off the energy they receive from within, from being alone. Without our alone time, we burn out. Cain describes in chapter nine, a man by the name of Professor Little who, in order to teach his classes behaved as an extrovert, but soon found himself burnt out and physically ill because he was stressing his nervous system by not getting the solitary alone time his body naturally craved.

I sometimes feel like Professor Little. I know I did during my first year of University. As a writer, I love to observe the people and the things that happen around me, but after days and days of very little alone time this year, I found myself stressed, anxious and feeling physically burnt out. I hardly had any time to write over the course of the year. My outlet was disabled.

 If I observe my behaviours, keeping Cain’s words from Quiet in mind, I find that they are actually in tune with what an over-stimulated introvert would do. I choose seats against walls, or near door, where I can be away from the center of attention. I have never liked too many eyes on me and I avoid small talk because I find it meaningless. Cain says introverts prefer deep conversations to small talk. It is true of me.

I also hate large crowds, like during orientation week, where they tried to get people revved up to scream and dance and cheer. I felt overwhelmed and often slipped away to be alone. While others cheered, I crossed my arms, not because I hated my University, but because I was out of my element and I felt no desire to show a public display I did not really feel. Cain says it is more difficult for introverts to fake excitement than it is for extroverts.

However, Cain suggests that introverts feel empathy and pain more acutely. Introverts are more likely to avoid violence and danger because those emotions fee stronger. To many introverts, life is a serious matter and work is what keeps us introvert going.  Introverts, she says, are more likely to work for the sake of work. I work for the sake of work.

Really, what reward is there for me in writing this piece? Certainly nobody will pay me for it. The novels I write, all unpublished, are not written out of a desire for fame and fortune, they are written because I need my flow. I desire that feeling of work for the sake of work, where all anxieties are pushed from my mind because I’m so focused on one single task.

I’m an introvert who has taught herself not to be so sensitive. Yes, I have a hard time connecting with others because I tend to live inside myself and small talk sometimes cues anxiety within me. Yes, I find it hard at times to look people in the eye as I talk with them. I am an introvert in every sense of the word, but lately, as I’ve learned to understand myself, I’ve learned to manage my need for time alone, and my fear of new things. I find if I fight the anxiety of entering a new situation, I can make it through on my own. That’s part of growing up. I don’t need my parents to help me down off the playground platform anymore. I’ve learned to climb those ladders on my own. I’ll never be at ease at a pep rally, or at a large dinner party, but that’s okay. I am who I am.

 I’m an introvert. I learn better independently and work better independently. To try to work or thrive within a large group is to inhibit myself. Cain’s book reinforces who I am, providing some justification for the way I behave. It’s not unnatural for me to want to run from a party after an hour or so; it’s the way I’ve been wired. Nature gave the base and nurture decided whether I’d develop into an over-sensitive adult afraid to put one foot in front of the other, or into what I am, a confident, introvert who has learned to cope with her environment.

Quiet is one of the best books I’ve read, ever. Cain literally describes me to myself. As I read I discovered things about myself. I no longer see my behaviour as something irrational. My introversion, despite what the public school system spent years telling me, is not something to be cured. My introversion is something to be embraced, and I have embraced it. I’m always going to find things that take me out of my comfort zone, but I can handle them without thinking I need to change who I am. It is my introverted personality that makes me such a devoted writer.

If you’re an introvert, or know an introvert, Quiet is the book to read. Interestingly enough, Cain says that about 1/3 of the population are introverts. Of course, many introverts have learned to behave as extroverts and there are different degrees of introverts and extroverts. Me, I’m an introvert to the core. Even on my best days, I can’t fake being an extrovert. I’ll just keep finding my flow and being the introvert I am.  

The Guns of Navarone by Alistair Maclean

I actually read this book well over a year ago, but I’m a writer and I’m in the middle of a new project. After a full weekend of work, I need something to get me focused on writing again. This review is my warm-up before I dive into the latest chapter of my novel. Besides, I always love talking about a good Alistair Maclean book, and The Guns of Navarone is one of my favourites. I’ve even seen the 1961 movie adaption.

It’s a war thriller with a basic plot, but anyone who had ever read a Maclean book will know that his plots, in reality, are anything but basic. At any moment in a Maclean book you can be surprised by a plot twist. He’s a master at plot twists. Plus, his novels, including this one, are so fast paced that I’m forced to binge read. It’s painful to have to read a Maclean novel in anything more than one sitting.

In this particular novel, a team of saboteurs are sent to take out the deadly guns on the island of Navarone during the Second World War. They have a short time frame before the British Navy passes by to rescue 1200 soldiers stranded on the Turkish coast. If the guns are left intact, the Navy will be blown out of the water. The chapters are categorized by day and military time, making the experience seem even more authentic.

One of the most gripping scenes of The Guns of Navarone is the cliff climb. Supposedly, the wall of rock is impossible to scale. Knowing this, Keith Mallory, an expert climber, and four other men are sent to climb it to gain access to the island and its guns. Things really heat up from there, but I’ll leave off here to avoid spoiling anymore of the plot. The book was originally published in 1957, but a new printing was made in 2011. Give this title a read. If you like it, there are dozens more by the same author. Enjoy!