Memories
I was in Montreal only once, overnight. March 1970. In my memory it is hilly, grey and drizzly. David Ball and I were there to read in a Poetry Series at Sir George Williams University. The FLQ were active, and over-protective staff advised us not to roam the streets. George Butterick hovers in the memory as does a pair of black leather boots. Those images (plus whatever David recalls) were, I thought, the only traces of the visit. This afternoon an email from Dave Cook included a link from his daughter Lisa (thanks Lisa) in Paris to a fully documented sound archive of the several years of the series. There are many gems among the more than 70 reels of tape. To now I’ve enjoyed hearing John Wiener’s voice from 1966 and listening to Borges read his Dreams and English Literature lecture. An excellent resource. And all before full spectrum surveillance.
This week 60 years ago I was 17 and in hospital awaiting open-heart surgery. I owe that I have a life since then and thus a memory of Montreal to two men. The cardiologist Paul Wood and the surgeon Russell Brock. I am still grateful for their intelligence, their skills, their kindness and their openness to me.
