Category: Literary cultures

Exploring the virtual edition of the Blue Metropolis International Literary Festival 2021

Building communities

Our sense of belonging is fostered by the communities where we grew up, but it can also be grounded in the communities that we build or feel kinship to in the course of our lives. Literary communities are such spaces where we meet kindred spirits. This theme came through during the discussion “Finding Queer Readers,” hosted by Christopher DiRaddo and which united writer and publisher Lawrence Schimel, publisher Ashley Fortier and author Nia King. The North American LGBTQ literary landscape has changed a lot in the last few decades with the disappearance of vibrant, independent queer and feminist bookstores and book fairs. Fortier started Metonymy Press with co-publisher Oliver Fugler in 2015 in Montreal partly in response to this loss and as a way to address the need for venues around which to continue building relationships and community.

“Many authors have come to know each other from being part of Metonymy’s catalogue,” she explained.

All panelists agreed that creating safe spaces for queer writers and artists is essential in making sure that their voices are heard and that they can write without self-sensorship and the pressure to conform to the cis-heteronormative expectations of mainstream publishing in order to make their stories reach the broader public.  

Small-press publishing: “Un endroit où les gens viennent déposer ce qu’ils ont dans le ventre” 

Giving voice to underrepresented communities has always been the ethos of small-press publishing, and the festival discussions that I listened to confirmed this still to be the case. In his talk, Danny Ramadan described how his first novel came to be published. When he started approaching Canadian presses, he realized that they were interested in the story he was telling, but not in the way he wanted to tell it. They wanted him to turn his book into a memoir and to follow the familiar media narrative about refugees. “Canadian society in 2014 wasn’t ready to hear the story of a Syrian refugee,” he said. He waited until he found a press—Nightwood Editions in Gibson, BC—that published his book the way he envisioned it. Since then the book has had great success, receiving awards and being translated in French, German and Hebrew.

This story is indicative of many similar experiences in the publishing world and illustrates how important small presses still are in their willingness to take risks, publish the work of authors early in their career and to tell stories that do not conform to comfortable narratives and to “what sells.” For Fortier, the work of independent publishers is vital for carving out and maintaining space where authors can write on their own terms. Indie publishers also fight against market trends and the gatekeeping of mainstream presses. This topic also emerged during the panel discussion with Indigenous authors who remarked that while mainstream publishers seem keen to accept stories that confirm their ideas about what a “good Indian” is, Indigenous writers who are “pushing the boundaries, reclaiming Indigenous narratives and using Indigenous languages—things that may not be at the top of the best-seller’s list—they have a harder time getting in there,” Duncan explained. 

Other publishers that we met during the festival spoke in similar terms about the significance of small presses in advancing a different approach to literature, writing and social dialogue. Chantal Spitz, writer, activist and founding member of the literary magazine Littérama’ohi, which publishes authors from French Polynesia, was one of the participants in the panel “Comment faire connaître et promouvoir les auteurs autochtones d’Océanie?”, hosted by Natacha Gagné and also featuring publisher Christian Robert and literature professor Vāhi Sylvia Tuheiava-Richaud. For Spitz, the mission of a literary magazine such as Littérama’ohi is not so much to promote or defend specific languages, but rather to showcase French Polynesian writing in all its linguistic diversity, including Indigenous languages.

What is important is to cultivate literature that is defined by the authors themselves, not imposed by outside forces: “On refuse de laisser encore l’extérieur de définir ce qu’on appelle littérature,”

she said in a sentence that takes a stance towards overturning the longstanding colonial practice of a major metropolitan “centre” (Paris, London) imposing its definition of literature to writers from the so-called “periphery.” Rather, Littérama’ohi encourages literature that is “polyforme, polylangue.” The magazine’s mission is thus to refuse the norms imposed from the outside (“des normes qui viennent d’ailleurs”), and to accept forms of writing that are not rigidly defined: it could be a text of 10 pages or 3 lines, what matters is that the press creates “un endroit où les gens viennent déposer ce qu’ils ont dans le ventre. […] Ce qu’on veut c’est que les gens puissent s’exprimer,” Spitz said.  

Exploring the virtual edition of the Blue Metropolis International Literary Festival 2021

The impact of COVID-19: “The rules of engagement are changing”

Not surprisingly, the effect of the pandemic on the literary and the arts worlds was a recurrent theme during the festival. An illuminating discussion on this topic and on the place of the digital in our future ways of creating and experiencing art, was “Theatre after COVID.” Mariane Ackermann hosted this lively conversation between Jessie Mill and Martine Dennewald (Co-directors, Festival des Amériques), Amy Blackmore (Executive and Artistic Director of MainLine Theatre, the St-Ambroise Montreal FRINGE Festival and the Bouge d’ici Dance Festival) and Annabel Soutar (Artistic Director, Porte Parole). While hybrid productions, interactive performances or podcast adaptations have existed as theatre practices for some time now, the pandemic pushed for a more in-depth consideration of the place of the digital in theatre production. As Mill said, it is not only about adapting the work to a digital space or remote audiences, but about understanding the technology and the possibilities that it offers as a different medium and a different language that both creators and grant institutions need to consider.

A major impact of going virtual has been the possibility to expand audience reach by transcending geographic boundaries, all the while rethinking audience engagement with the work. Blackmore said:

“The most exciting thing happening right now is that all the rules of engagement are changing, we don’t have to do theatre the way we did before.”

Of course, there is no doubt that in-person performances will not disappear and people will return to the physical space of the theatre. In the panelists’ view, people will go back to find a sense of solidarity in an increasingly polarized world, to orient themselves about what is going on in the world, to express a need to converse with each other and understand difference. For Blackmore and the team at the Fringe Festival, this translates into a commitment to practice what she called “radical hospitality”: being transparent to audiences about what the theatre-viewing experience will be like in the conditions of a pandemic so that “our patrons and audiences feel comfortable coming back.”

The panelists also broached the question of whether the theatre world would witness a loss of talent as a result of the long-term loss of jobs due to the pandemic. All panelists agreed that in an industry that was already very precarious to begin with, there are still many unknowns about whether it would offer a sustainable future to theatre artists and creators. “It’s important to develop systems of support for performing artists in the future,” Blackmore said and added that there’s been a push for basic income for artists in Quebec and across the country, but there remains “a lot of work to be done.”

The effect of COVID-19 on the international literary scene was the topic of discussion of the panel “Littératures hispaniques: Hispanic in the Pandemic.” Hosted by Ingrid Bejerman, it gathered professionals from the business side of publishing, and specifically, the world of international book fairs. Featured presenters were Cristina Fuentes LaRoche (Director, Hay Festival Americas), Marifé Boix García (Vice-President – Business Development, Frankfurt Book Fair) and Marisol Schulz Manaut (Director, Guadalajara International Book Fair). International book fairs, such as those in Frankfurt and Guadalajara, represent major business events in the book industry for the sale of publishing and translation rights. They usually feature a country, a region or a city as a guest of honour, which means offering an exhibition on the world stage of that place’s literature and broader culture. Canada was supposed to be the guest of honour at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2020, but it didn’t happen since Canada quickly closed its borders to international travel after the pandemic hit. It then asked to be featured in 2021 instead, although this is when Spain was slated to present and had already started putting together its program and participants. Ultimately, the countries agreed to move their participation by a year, although it wasn’t an easy task to convince them, García explained. Similar situation happened with Peru as guest of honour at the Guadalajara Book Fair, Manaut said. 

Other approaches include going all digital or adopting a hybrid model. This is the case of the Hay Festival whose 2021 edition will take place both in-person and online. LaRoche talked about the festival’s fully virtual experience from last year when the organizers had to quickly learn how to use digital platforms and adapt to the online world. A new feature they introduced were online chats with the audiences, which proved to be successful in making the festival more interactive and creating a sense of community.

However, as in the discussion on theatre audiences above, the panelists here also agreed that the “in-person community [remains] really important.” 

The digital has its advantages in creating more inclusive events that reach many more people and extend beyond borders. It can also make business transactions more efficient. At the same time, the “emotional” aspect of literary events, as the panelists noted, the conversations that happen in the hallways and the relationships that are built in person, can’t be fully reproduced online. The future may be hybrid, the presenters concurred, but the in-person activities “remain the heart of what we do.”  

Paths in nature: “A state of mind and of heart”

The conversation “Rest and Recuperate: From Taiwan to Norway to Bancroft, Ontario” provided an insightful, gentle conclusion to my virtual engagement with this year’s program of the Blue Metropolis festival. Three authors, Kirsteen Macleod, Jessica J. Lee and Torbjørn Ekelund, and host Shelley Pomerance, talked about finding moments of contemplation, “taking a break from the frenetic pace of contemporary life” and reconnecting with one’s self. All three shared experiences of their connection with nature: be it in the form of paths and walking as in Ekelund’s writing, year-round swimming in 52 different lakes, which is the subject of one of Lee’s books, or being inspired by the spiritual dimension of retreat, as is the case for Macleod. Finding places of introspection and observing nature around us—no matter how small those moments can seem amidst our busy urban lives—could become a habit that we can all cultivate, and it could help us discover a rich inner dimension and a deeper connection with the places around us and with the natural world. Western ideas of retreat often carry connotations of weakness, escapism, retreating rather than advancing. In other cultural traditions, however, the concept of retreat has deep philosophical meanings that touch not so much on the dominant social and active aspects of our lives, but on the more “solitary, reflective and receptive” part of living; retreat could be a form of inner sanctuary, as Macleod explained. 

The three authors also discussed the connection between thinking and walking, which, in Ekelund’s view, has to do with speed:

“You adapt to the slowness/speed of your thinking when walking, your feet and your brain pick up the same pace.” The fast speed of our lives is the basic reason why we don’t see what’s happening around us; “walking is the best way to better our ability to see,” he said.  

Reminiscent of the two discussions on the effects of the pandemic mentioned above, the conversation here also veered briefly towards the digital. Lee pointed out that activities such as walking and being in nature do not have to be divorced from the digital world—the two are not mutually exclusive. The Internet has democratized knowledge about nature by bringing a wealth of information at people’s fingertips. Being able to use an app that tells you the name of a plant species, to check out a hiking trail by satellite imagery or navigate with a GPS while going for a walk in the woods are practical uses of technology that have expanded our engagement with the natural world, in Lee’s view.