Toronto-based fiction writer Ibi Kaslik has today received a Trillium Book Award nomination, for her second novel, The Angel Riots, released in March 2008. DRIVEN’s editorial personnel are unabashed fans of the book; it was an honour when Kaslik agreed to interview 2008 Giller Prize-winning author Joseph Boyden for our December issue (read it here: pp38-42).
Author Archive
Four days in Dubai:
Day 4, Open Sunday
Dubai, 10.00am of a Sunday. The corporate headquarters of the Emirates Group becomes the latest in a long line of visited buildings that are truly impressive to behold. Glassed, girdered and decidedly open-air, it’s a wonderful “junior” complement to Emirates’ spectacular Terminal 3, just on the other side of the highway. (“Junior” is no denigration; in matters of size, there are airports and then there is everything else.)
In fact, one of Emirates’ senior V.P.’s, Richard Vaughan, explains that so busy has Terminal 3 proven in the half-year since its opening, flights are already spilling over into Terminal 2. Nice work, if you can get it.
Four days in Dubai:
Day 3, “Deserted” Saturday
Dubai, 9.00am of a Saturday. To market, to market, to market: the morning agenda involves textiles, spices and jewellery. If the construction of the souks themselves looks just a little too rigid, too clean, too straight to be authentic (or at least old), the kiosks at least have hints of individuality.
Finally, though: throngs! I never thought I’d miss people at their most swarming, and these markets are definitely abuzz. Such a welcome change from the comparably deserted super-malls.
Four days in Dubai:
Day 2, Hospitable Friday
Dubai, 11.00am of a Friday. I find myself wondering if the second-largest city in the United Arab Emirates isn’t also the…emptiest? Later in the day, our tour guide runs the numbers for us (incidentally, he’s a Sri Lankan stat machine non pareil, who, we joke among ourselves, could probably address us in binary): 3,900 square km, and 300 people per square km.
Sure, those numbers mean as little to you as they do to me, but regardless of the population density, this much is true: I am staying in the hub of Dubai — the cutting-edge of “new,” here — yet wherever I turn, there is nothing but elbow room. Arguably too much of it. Read More
Four days in Dubai:
Day 1, Definitive Thursday
Dubai, second-largest city in the United Arab Emirates and home of countless exquisite waterfalls, 6.00pm of a Thursday. I arrive very well-rested. So well-rested that I am feeling a vague mental peace as my group exits the capacious airport, which makes departure-hub Toronto’s own Terminal 1 seem a comparative Greyhound depot.
The relaxed feeling is no doubt to do with the fact that the flight, on the Emirates airline, was beyond pleasant: business class to one of the world’s most opulent destinations, as one might imagine, leaves little to be desired that cannot be fulfilled at the press of a button. Whether the service solution involves a beverage-bearing attendant or a self-activated massage or full-bed function for the multi-position recliner, every contingent need is considered.
Still, it’s only as I am exiting the airport that I realize why I feel particularly comfortable: it’s the breathing room. My earlier comparison to Toronto Terminal 1 is apt, because both of these buildings are engineered to emphasize space, ambience. Dubai’s is bigger, of course, but surely this is the city’s raison d’être. I will soon see if bigger means better.
Derek Weiler, 1968 – 2009: “Dark was the night in late afternoon”
The Canadian media lost a true prince this week, and at far too young an age: Derek Weiler, 40, passed away suddenly on Sunday. He was the editor-in-chief of Quill & Quire magazine and a regular contributor to DRIVEN (notably, Derek wrote our Hugh Dillon cover story last September). The details of his passing are unimportant because the loss is, by any measure, incalculable.
It bears mentioning that Derek was also a very good friend of mine, which is an altogether other incalculable loss.
But as to Derek the fiery-yet-somehow-mild-mannered editor/journalist: His primary beat involved keeping the Canadian book-publishing industry honest, but he was also devoted to sharing the joy of music through his dazzlingly poetic reviews and blogs. Ask anyone about the man, and you’ll hear variations on one very rare and classy theme. (Kind of Bird-meets-Nyman-meets-Glass to me, though I’m sure Derek, probably more passionate about music than literature, would find my triangulation limiting. As someone pointed out earlier today, online, “The dude had too many faves, his Top Ten list included 300 records”.)
Derek was ridiculously well-versed, but humble. Opinionated, but tactful. And principled? The man was rigidly ethical; he walked tall. I bet he slept soundly, too. He wrote with infectious rhapsody when it came to the arts, and he dotted every ‘i’, crossed every ‘t’, checked every fact and mucked every rake when it came to hard news. To that last point: Derek took stands — always a courageous act when you work in a niche industry. And if his editorial stances irked the establishment here and there in the short term (well, every couple of issues or so), he only earned more respect in the long term, from everyone.
That’s how integrity works, by the way; there are just so few people out there with the guts to put themselves on the line to back it up. Constantly, consistently, truly conscientiously.
I named this post “Dark was the night in late afternoon” for no reason of assumed profundity, though I can’t deny there’s that vague hint of Eugene O’Neill and depression and, yes, death about it. The title is, in fact, Derek’s: It was the subject header in an email he sent me recently, which contained his review for the benefit CD compilation, Dark Was the Night. I’ll let you guess the time of day that he filed. Funny guy.
That review, which I’m publishing in tandem with this post, would be Derek’s final contribution to DRIVEN; click here to read it. To be fair, it’s not his most elegant work, but fault the format in this particular instance, not the freelancer (you try succinctly summarizing 31 songs by almost as many artists, in just 175 words).
Because when it came to writing about music, give that gangly boy some elbow room and wow, could he make words sing.
One compelling bit of music criticism Derek phrased so vividly that it echoes in my head every time I hear the track in question was for Eluvium’s “Amerik,” an instrumental jaw-dropper that I’ll crudely describe as a more melancholy, contemporary take on Aaron Copland’s “Fanfare for the Common Man.” Derek found something deeper and more insightful but, a singular skill, expressed it inclusively: “To me, the heavy washes suggest weary resignation, while the lighter undermelody suggests something else, some mix of bewilderment and stubborn hope. But I suspect this one’s a real Rorschach test, pulling something different out of every person.” He could take what inspired him, and inspire others — and at the best of times, which was often enough, help us learn something about ourselves along the way.
I’ll sign off with a lyric snippet from a favourite song that Derek introduced to me: “I See a Darkness,” by Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. I know, I know, a lot of “dark(ness)” in this post overall, but you’ll find the final shade slightly lighter. The key, as with most things, is your perspective.
My best unbeaten brother — this isn’t all I see.
Good night, Derek. Sleep tight, friend; you earned it.
_____________________________________________
[There will be no further posts at DRIVENmag.com
for the remainder of the week of April 13-17]
Who delimits the unlimited?
A brief visit to Marvel Comics’ digital site—where digital comics are, per Marvel’s slogan, “unlimited”—has brought me up to speed on international geography. The modern map, it seems, has been reduced to two countries: the US, and outside of the US. (Select one, please.)
The mid-Smith cuckoos
Oh, this is rich. Earlier today, Universal Music UK received an advance shipment of an album being released in exactly two weeks, on March 9. The discs, reportedly hundreds of them, sported the correct art, but contained the wrong music. The ‘right’ recording artist is 13-year-old Faryl Smith, who took third place in the 2008 edition of the Britain’s Got Talent TV show. The ‘wrong’ artist—very, very wrong—is The Fall, a cult band near and dear to this journalist, led by crotchety 51-year-old Mark E Smith.
You can probably see not only where this is going, but also how it got there. Still, you’ll find some ridiculously casual maths, not to mention a Smith vs Smith photo comparison, after the fold.
Gentlemanagement:
Two sides to every same side?
Just one of oh-so-many perfect exchanges of dialogue from easily the best year-2008 novel to have crossed my desk to date:
“We’re on the same side here.”
“You know what? … The very fact that you think it’s necessary to reassure me of that tells me we’re not.”
—Richard Price, Lush Life (p397, ARC)
Man, ain’t that the truth?
Toronto ‘wins,’ The Atlantic sins
The following outrage, noted via the Mock Turtle blog (some DRIVEN comments after the fold):
“I got a little excited when I saw this month’s Atlantic Monthly on the newsstand. The suburbs lose. The sun belt fades. Toronto wins. How the crash will reshape America, touts the cover over a nighttime shot of Toronto seen from the lake. A little strange, granted, since Toronto is in Canada and there is no sun belt here, unless you’re talking midnight sun—but, with the author listed as Toronto-based urban affairs guru Richard Florida, it made sense.
“Except… the article doesn’t mention Toronto.”
