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Poetry

Welcoming Winter with John Thompson’s At the Edge of the Chopping there are no Secrets

By Emily Skov-Nielson

There’s really no point in holding a grudge against winter since, let’s face it, it’s the prevailing season here in New Brunswick. So the next time the snow flies, resist the urge to curse and clench your jaw — sit back, pour yourself a glass of something dark and spirituous, and immerse yourself in Thompson’s magnetizing winter world: “this place suddenly yours.”

Congratulations to M. Travis Lane on a Governor-General's Award Nomination

By Shane Neilson

[Editor's note: In honour of M. Travis Lane being shortlisted for the Governor General's Literary Award for poetry, we're pleased to reprint with permission Shane Neilson's introduction to the retrospective of her work that appeared in last summer's poetry issue, No. 260, Summer 2014.]

Poetry & Techno: May Their Futures Meet at the Beat? (Part 3 of 3)

By Steven Suntres

In my mind, the palate for both techno and poetry is a massive suggestion for the two to fuse together and to create on a blank canvas. I foresee an opportunity, both in content and cultural relevance, to create something that is beautiful and authentic in both of these mediums coming together. They are both emotional experiences that could synthesize into a superpower of an emotional medium.

Poetry & Techno: May Their Futures Meet at the Beat? (Part 2 of 3)

By Steven Suntres

With electronic music’s meteoric rise over the past decade, the culture infiltrated the mainstream conscious, which came with its faults but ultimately benefited the culture as a whole. Techno became a cultural force taking over the lifestyles of the party demographics all over the continent. . . .

Poetry & Techno: May Their Futures Meet at the Beat? (Part 1 of 3)

By Steven Suntres

Poetry and techno are like two of my mind’s closest friends that continually flirt with each other to the point that I’m confused as to why they don’t just quit playing around and start dating. For a while, I thought this was something that only made sense to me, and that I should just keep my opinions to myself; however, when I came across an article in The Atlantic, titled "The Death of the Artist” by William Deresiewicz, I began to think that this is a match that is more plausible than I first thought it would be in a real world setting.

An Interview with Sean Howard

By Rebecca Salazar

Sean Howard has won our 24th annual Ralph Gustafson Prize for Best Poem for "Cases (Unbound Poems, from Nova Scotia Reports)." Sean Howard is the author of Local Calls (Cape Breton University Press, 2009) and Incitements (Gaspereau Press, 2011). His poetry has been published in numerous Canadian and international magazines, nominated for a Pushcart Prize in the US, and anthologized in The Best Canadian Poetry in English (Tightrope Books, 2011 & 2014). Sean lives in the lobster-fishing village of Main-à-Dieu, Nova Scotia, and is adjunct professor of political science at Cape Breton University.

Cultural Stoicism & Atlantic Canadian Vernacular: Carmelita McGrath’s Escape Velocity

By Phillip Crymble

A Review of Carmelita McGraw's Escape Velocity (Goose Lane, 2013) I was reminded, in reading through Escape Velocity, of the cultural and aural vernacular that’s so much a part of the literary geography of Newfoundland. The trick, I think, with any brogue, is to try and do it justice without putting the idiomatic phrases and language used in jeopardy of being considered a caricature. McGrath deftly straddles the line in this new collection, and her ability to recognize and resist the impulse to essentially reduce native Newfoundlanders to a comic commodity through exaggerated dialect is one of the book’s great achievements.

Day on Salamis’ Seacoasts: Emery George's translation of Frederich Hölderlin's Selected Poems

By Eric Miller

A Review of Friedrich Hölderlin, Selected Poems, introduced, edited and translated by Emery George (Princeton UP, 2011) What is “nobility”? In a society, such as ours, that makes a fretful, often duplicitous, yet admirable pretence to democratic practice, the word may seem insistently, even discouragingly, to flaunt a feudal livery, contaminating all the situations into which we import it with the ghost of a titular presumption over the rest of society: an intractable case of most ancient bloodlines. But the origins of the word “noble” offer a means by which to parry, even to disarm, such narrow atavism.

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