Attractively bound in grey cloth, generously leaded, and printed in 12-point Baskerville type on soft, cream-coloured paper, The Old Bateau has an old-fashioned graciousness about it.
At this moment I can think of only one purpose for which I would travel from the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia to the lumbering settlement of Lillooet in the province of New Brunswick.
This Green Earth is a little, paper-backed book of fifty-two pages and forty poems, but its modest size is deceptive because, in it, Mr. Bourinot write of events and people three thousand years and six thousand miles apart.
A white villa stares sightless over an undulant plain, a grasshopper crackles and crumbles the summer between its wings, a cypress dozes in a river valley, an upturned tank points its gun to the fathomless blue of a Tuscan sky.
Border River is a significant book of Canadian poetry. Its settings are our landscapes, and its subjects are often our people - Indian, French-Canadian, pioneer.