West Coast poet and author Susan Musgrave was nominated for the Griffin Poetry Prize.Supplied
Of all the things to be angry about these days, poetry doesn’t seem to rate very high. But something is happening in this country that has the poets riled up.
The Griffin Poetry Prize was established in 2000. Scott Griffin, a wealthy Canadian businessman and philanthropist, is a poetry lover. And he wanted to give poets their due.
The prize organized a public reading and the splashiest of invitation-only parties to fete these poets. And Mr. Griffin handed out large sums of money to the winners – plural. This is the crux of the matter.
When it was established, the Griffin offered two major prizes: one for a Canadian and one for an international poet. There was a shortlist of three poets in each category, with equal awards ($40,000 originally), and equal attention. Then, last September, the Griffin announced a significant change: that it would combine what had been increased to two $65,000 prizes into one $130,000 prize. So that prize reserved for Canadian poets? Gone.
It was touted as great news: “Announcing the world’s largest international prize for a single book of poetry,” the news release said.
Some Canadian poets have a different take. Paul Vermeersch, a Toronto-based poet, has called it a fiasco.
This week, the Griffin announced the shortlist for its new, mega prize. Five titles made the list, with two by Canadians: Haida Gwaii, B.C.-based poet Susan Musgrave and Edmonton-based poet Iman Mersal, who is from Egypt. Because Ms. Mersal’s book Threshold was translated from Arabic to English by U.S. scholar Robyn Creswell, the work would have been in the international category under the previous rules. (In cases where the translator was Canadian and the original poet from elsewhere, the book would have been in the Canadian category.)
So under the old system, two more Canadian poets would have had their moment in the spotlight. Maybe more – because Ms. Musgrave, in theory, would have been eligible for the international category.
It might not seem like a lot – two or three more Canadian poets getting a bit of attention and a shot at a lot of money. (And all finalists receive $10,000.) But opportunities for celebration and financial reward are pretty few and far between for poets – the artists that modernist poet Wallace Stevens once called “priest[s] of the invisible.”
In an interview when the Griffin change was announced, Mr. Vermeersch, who is a professor of creative writing and publishing at Sheridan College, and senior editor of Wolsak and Wynn Publishers, called the development “deflating and sad,” and urged the Griffin to reconsider.
“In terms of quality and in terms of inventiveness and craft, absolutely Canadian poetry is on par with poetry anywhere in the world,” he said. But with opportunities for promoting Canadian poetry shrinking, he added, “Here’s another piece of the platform that’s just been pulled out from under our feet.”
If it was splashy international headlines the Griffin people were after, a search on Thursday for mentions this week suggests otherwise. The New York Times, The Guardian, The Washington Post: “0 results found for ‘Susan Musgrave.’”
There is another colossal Canadian-connected literary prize with a not-very-Canadian shortlist announced this month. The Carol Shields Prize for Literary Fiction is named for the beloved author who was born in Illinois but moved to Canada after marrying at 22. Ms. Shields’s books include Larry’s Party – which in 1998 won the Orange Prize for Fiction, now called the Women’s Prize for Fiction.
In 2012, the founder of that prize was at the Vancouver Writers Fest for an event about female writers. Out of that came the idea for a prize for female fiction writers in Canada, championed by Canadians including author Susan Swan. So, unlike Ms. Shields, you could say this prize was born – or at least conceived – in Canada.
Over 10 years, the idea developed into a US$150,000 prize for Canadian and American authors who are female or non-binary. The inaugural shortlist was announced this month: Five authors. One Canadian – Suzette Mayr, for her highly acclaimed novel The Sleeping Car Porter, which won the Scotiabank Giller Prize last year.
This isn’t Griffin-level disappointing, as the prize – beyond its earliest imaginings – was not an only-in-Canada endeavour. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t discouraging.
I finally bought Ms. Musgrave’s book, Exculpatory Lilies, this week. I picked it up and couldn’t put it down. This collection is fuelled by grief – the death of her husband in 2018, and then her 32-year-old daughter in 2021. There are lines that seem to bleed from the page. But because it’s written by Ms. Musgrave it will also make you laugh.
Ms. Musgrave can compete on the international stage (as can Ms. Mayr and Ms. Mersal). But imagine what that spotlight could have done for more Canadian poets. And anyway, what good is an international stage if it has no audience?