He points out that Canadian writing had become-- by the late 90s and early 2000s-- Toronto-centric. In one biting essay he claims that shoddy writers are published more easily than talented Prairie writers, for instance, for the simple reason that they live in Toronto and share than city's social scene and point of view.
He morns the demise of small publishing houses, and criticizes the larger (often) American owned publishing companies, as well as the media, for turning Canadian writing into a commercialized industry rather than a cultural art.
While I can understand the validity of his Toronto-centric argument, it isn't necessarily true today. I'm not the most up-to-date Canadian lit. reader, but I have noticed wonderful writing and successful writers coming out of, not only Toronto, but elsewhere in Canada. One of my favourite literary magazines, The Fiddlehead, is published New Brunswick. I can imagine that technology has, in the last thirteen years, changed the ability of writers to connect with publishers from their own corners of the country.
I do understand his grief regarding small publishing houses. In fact, I can't really think of any novel I've read by a Canadian author that was published by a small house. The Canadian books on my shelves mostly bare the names of Doubleday, Penguin Canada and New Canadian Library. I'm not saying this is a bad thing. I love the editions and many of the books that these companies release. I do think, however, that small publishers do have a necessary place. Penguin Canada and the other big publishers are more likely to publish the authors they already know and more likely to avoid taking chances with 'controversial subject matter.'
The point that struck me the most in Henighan's essays was his frustration over setting. There is an unwritten rule in the movie and TV industry that things must not seem too Canadian. If a TV show or movie is ever to reach an international, or an American audience, it must not be set in Canada. Apparently, Canada is boring, or not universal enough. Yes, TV shows like Flashpoint have been successful, even though they broke this rule, but the majority of Canadians working in TV and the movie industry seem to be very careful to set their work in either a well known American city, or a nondescript American setting.
I've noticed the same trend in music. I always feel a little bit disappointed when a Canadian singer, instead of making references to Canada in their songs, mentions American landmarks. As a Canadian, I often find myself wishing for a little something of our own.
The same is true of our writers. Canadian writers rarely set their novels in Canada these days. We may read Canadian novels set in America, and Canadian novels set in India, or Afghanistan (and I'm not saying these aren't wonderful and works of art in their own right), but only once in a while do we find a contemporary bestselling Canadian book set in Canada. In the back of the minds of Canadian writers is, according to Henighan, the fear that we may make our novel "too Canadian." If a novel is too Canadian, then publishers will not want it because they believe that American and international audiences won't want it.
I think I've gone on long enough about this book. As a final note, I will say that thirteen years after publication the issues that Henighan brought up in this work are still relevant. We have Canadian writers and Canadian classics, but will the Canadian setting and Canadian identities ever be established in a permanent way, as legitimate topics to write about for mass audiences? I'm sure authors like Hugh Macleenan once thought they had achieved this, but the modernist era is over, and, as Henighan feared in 2002, we seem to have lost a little ground.
