Be Ace Be Trendy
“Be Ace. Be Trendy” I remember when I first
read these words. Actually, I don’t but I do remember reading them and thought,
yes, I want to be ace and trendy, I want to be those things and even more and
then Stuart Ross, the author of those words and a friend since I’d met him at
age of five called me and asked me if I wanted to get in on the ground floor of
this amazing Proper Tales Press project of his. There were millions to be made,
he claimed and private jets with all the cheese blintzes you could eat and
dancing girls and spies dressed as schnauzers on rhinestone leashes and
precious gems smuggled in vats of schmaltz herring. It was almost like the old
childhood Man From U.N.C.L.E. days
when he was Napoleon Solo and I was Illya Kuryakin. Anyway, I was in.
Okay, that didn’t happen either but I do
remember Stuart training for the day he would launch Proper Tales, grinding out
an early publication of ours, Moscow, A
Tale of Africa, on his dad’s office Gestetner machine. As if he were an
early Bathurst Manor purveyor of pulp fiction but his tastes always ran to the
surreal and offbeat, the lowdown, the downtrodden, the sad sacks of the world
(as kids Stuart was a fan of Sad Sack
comics, which might account for his Beckett leanings), so you could almost see
the morphing of his literary tastes, this eclectic mental library of influences
and meanderings, finding their way from his brain to the page, not just in his
writing but in this need to publish from an early age. Later this became an
overriding sense that the writers and poets he knew or didn’t know but whose
work he loved should be championed on the printed page in book form and so,
Proper Tales was born. I think.
Forty years later and still kicking against the
pricks of established Canadian publishing.
Proper Tales Press dances light as a feather upon the brain, as
ingrained in the small press scene as a loon call on a lonely lake in the
Canadian psyche. A formidable accomplishment, a Calder-sculpture-like balancing
act not unlike the images that adorn many Proper Tales Press covers, a
simplicity of line and design that portend death-defying poetics inside, or at
least some pretty damn innovative writing from an ever-expanding list of poets
prodded, poked and always promoted by Stuart for their work. The mensch of
Canadian small press with a now global reach.
The early days, after the publication of my
Proper Tales book of poetry, Movies in
the Insect Temple, seemed like a sidewalk selling baptism-by-fire as,
taking a cue from the legendary Crad Kilodney who Stuart emulated in his
offbeat sales approach, I too stood with a sign around my neck flogging my book
proudly despite the pitfalls and prevails that come with standing like a
lunatic on Yonge St. selling poetry. Lillian Neckakov and Michael Boyce were
out there too. I lasted a while I believe and my daily goal was a hamburger, a
gram of hashish, a pack of smokes and hopefully a box of Peak Freens. High
hopes. Crad would treat me to burgers from time to time, even when he didn’t
have a two-for-one coupon, which I thought was quite generous. But out there we
stayed, this odd little nickel and dime bookselling economy, braving the
elements, human and otherwise. Making a buck and promoting poetry the Proper
Tales way. This was truly an influential moment in my writing life and even
now, I think, both lends and bends my perspective to this insane idea you can
still take poetry to the streets.
I like to think to this day I still embody the
principles that Proper Tales Press elicits in both its writers and readers.
That is this dedication to forms of writing that continue to challenge what
writing is and can be and need not be consumed but rather reflected upon to
create a dialogue between reader and writer, a quiet conversation about the
journey of words.
In the end, it’s as much our journey as
Stuart’s and his fantastic press, this endless discovery taking whatever
printed form is available for the occasion, from the chapbook to a slap-dash
leaflet to hand out at a reading at the last minute, this fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants
perfection and honestly the greatest thing about Proper Tales Press is its
continued improperness in the world of fly-by-night literary conjurings.
Mark Laba is an artist and writer living in Vancouver. He was once a restaurant reviewer for a daily newspaper. He’s also painted anatomical models and faux-finished artist wall tiles, been a darkroom technician, assembled cheap watches for crappy department stores, made nametags, vertical blinds and was a scriptwriter for Flash animations dealing with conflicts in the business workplace, a topic he was ill-equipped to write about. His most recent book of poetry is The Inflatable Life, A Feed Dog Book, Anvil Press, 2019.Laba is the author of the Proper Tales Press titles Movies in the Insect Temple (1981) and, with Stuart Ross, Africa: A Tale of Moscow (1979).
No comments:
Post a Comment