rob mclennan read at the U of C on Monday night, as part of the Markin-Flanagan writers in residence exchange with the U of A. I thought the turnout was a bit disappointing, particularly from the non-student literary community. But it was a decent sized audience, and as long as the usual Markin-Flanagan spread of wine and food is available, why complain? Sina Queyras delivered a comprehensive introduction to rob's writing, quoting someone (I can't remember who, and I really have to start taking notes at these things) who called rob a northern beat poet, pointing out the Whitmanesque impulse to know the self in his body of work, and referencing an illuminating line from one of rob's poems that he later read: "a body moving past lyric into post-lyric"...

rob read from a couple of different poetry series, including his recent sex at 38, from his novel white, and from a novel in progress. I think that listening to rob read has given me more access into his poetry than I've had previously. Hearing his intonations and rhythm of voice makes his choices of form and line breaks more apparent, and more organic. I enjoyed his novel in progress, which follows a character called Alberta through some sort of experience of living in the prairies; I have to admit that when I hear people read fiction I never follow the plot at all, I mostly just listen to the sound of words and the structure of sentences. Even more enjoyable than the reading was rob's somewhat subversive refusal to engage the usual English-department-ish questions about narrative and form or Aritha Van Herk's question about appropriating Dennis Cooley's characters. Maybe you had to be there to appreciate it, but it was all very entertaining.