Alienation Autopsy
STUART ROSS INTERVIEWS GIL ADAMSON
Toronto writer Gil Adamson is the author of two startling poetry books, Primitive (Coach House Press) and Ashland (ECW Press), as well as the acclaimed collection of linked stories, Help Me, Jacques Cousteau (Porcupine’s Quill). Her poetry has also appeared in several anthologies, including The Last Word (Insomniac Press) and Surreal Estate: 13 Canadian Poets Under the Influence (Mercury Press). Recently, Fiction & Poetry Editor Stuart Ross rolled up his sleeves and asked her a few questions.
Have you ever received an anonymous note?
Never. I bet all anonymous notes are agitating, like: Are you aware your husband is having an affair? Are you aware Warren in accounting wants to have an affair with you? If you park your car here one more time I’ll slash the tires.
Do you enter a different place when you’re writing fiction as opposed to poetry?
No, I stay in my office. Sorry. Real answer: Absolutely. They are completely different muscles. I can’t even read poetry properly when I’m in a fiction mood, and vice versa, because the diction seems so strange.
Do the dysfunctional family members of Help Me, Jacques Cousteau have anything in common with the alienated individuals of much of your poetry and other short fiction?
You pegged it when you said “alienated.” They are outsiders, even within a tightly knit family, even at Christmas or weddings or, as in the case of this story, being a minister or a priest who, one must assume, has a flock to care for. I am fascinated by how little it takes for us to draw into ourselves, to become weird or eccentric.
Desert island. The complete works of three authors. Who would they be?
This week: Cormac McCarthy, Graham Greene, Flannery O’Connor. Next week: Stephen King, Philip K. Dick, Jim Thompson.
What can the Gil Adamson Fan Club look forward to?
A modest membership, reasonable dues, and no T-shirts, mugs, or hoodies. I am finishing a novel. It’s set in 1903 and the main character is a young woman widowed by her own hand, fleeing the authorities. Much of the action takes place in Frank, Alberta, site of a famous landslide and, of course, that’s where my girl is heading. I’m hoping to make it “lush and richly imagined” … and also “luminous.” But I’ll settle for just finishing it.
