Disparity and division in religion, technology and ideology have characterized relations between English-Canadian and Indian cultures through-out Canada's history. From the earliest declaration of white territorial ownership to the current debate on aboriginal rights, red man and white man have had opposing principles and perspectives. The most common 'solutions' imposed on these conflicts by white men have relegated the Indian to the fringes of white society and consciousness. This survey of English-Canadian literature is the first comprehensive examination of a tradition in which white writers turn to the Indian and his culture for standards and models by which they can measure their own values and goals; for patterns of cultural destruction, transformation, and survival; and for sources of native heroes and indigenous myths. Leslie Monkman examines images of the Indian as they appear in works raning from Robert Rogers' Ponteach, or The Savages of America (1766) to Robertson Davies' 'Pontiac and the Green Man' (1977), demonstrating how English-Canadian writers have illuminated their own world through reference to Indian culture. The Indian has been seen as an antagonist, as a superior alternative, as a member of a vanishing and lamented race, and as a hero and the source of the new myths. Although white/Indian tension often lies in apparently irreconcilable opposites, Monkman finds in the literature surveyed complementary images reflecting a common humanity. This is an important contribution to a hitherto unexplored area of Canadian literature in English which should give rise to further elaboration of this major theme.

In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Canada witnessed an explosion in the production of literary works by Aboriginal writers, a development that some critics have called the Native Renaissance. In Before the Country, Stephanie McKenzie explores the extent to which this growing body of literature influenced non-Native Canadian writers and has been fundamental in shaping our search for a national mythology. In the context of Northrop Frye's theories of myth, and in light of the attempts of social critics and early anthologists to define Canada and Canadian literature, McKenzie discusses the ways in which our decidedly fractured sense of literary nationalism has set indigenous culture apart from the mainstream. She examines anew the aesthetics of Native Literature and, in a style that is creative as much as it is scholarly, McKenzie incorporates the principles of storytelling into the unfolding of her argument. This strategy not only enlivens her narrative, but also underscores the need for new theoretical strategies in the criticism of Aboriginal literatures. Before the Country invites us to engage in one such endeavour.

Goldie skillfully reveals the ambivalence of white writers to indigenous culture through an examination of the stereotyping involved in the creation of the image of the "Other." The treacherous "redskin" and the "Indian maiden," embodiments of violence and sex, also evoke emotional signs of fear and temptation, of white repulsion from and attraction to the indigene and the land. Goldie suggests that white culture, deeply attracted to the impossible idea of becoming indigenous, either rejects native land claims and denies recognition of the original indigenes, or incorporates these claims into white assertions of native status. After comparing the works of Canadian author Rudy Wiebe and Australian author Patrick White, Goldie concludes by linking the results of his literary analysis to wider cultural concerns, particularly land rights. He shows that literary views of natives, both positive and negative, emphasize the same charac-teristics and he suggests that escape from this limited vision may open the door to solving the problems of native sovereignty.

The legendary Canadian book editor presents this “remarkable, four-decade romp through the back rooms of publishing” (Toronto Sun). Scottish-born Douglas Gibson was drawn to Canada by the writing of Stephen Leacock—and eventually made his way across the Atlantic to find a job in book publishing, where he edited a biography of none other than Leacock. But over the decades, his stellar career would lead him to work with many more of the country’s leading literary lights. This memoir shares stories of working—and playing—alongside writers including Robertson Davies, Mavis Gallant, Brian Mulroney, Val Ross, W. O. Mitchell, and many more. Gibson reveals the projects he brainstormed for Barry Broadfoot; how he convinced future Nobel Prize winner Alice Munro to keep writing short stories; his early-morning phone call from a former prime minister; and his recollection of yanking a manuscript right out of Alistair MacLeod’s reluctant hands—which ultimately garnered the author one of the world’s most prestigious prizes for fiction. Insightful and entertaining, this collection of tales goes behind the scenes and between the covers to divulge a treasure trove of literary adventures. “He makes his life in publishing sound like great fun.” —The Globe and Mail (Toronto)

Every 3rd issue is a quarterly cumulation.

It was the summer of ’43 on a Cariboo ranch. He was 12 and had to become a man. If you were a man, you could become a cowboy. Join the author on this nostalgic look back on the joys, frustrations and observations of growing up and discovering where he belongs. Excerpt from Eldon Lee's foreword: “This book by Alan Fry is probably the best book ever written on ranch life in the Cariboo. His account of everyday events is so perceptive and so true to the mark that all we country types yearn to re-experience its joys, and its miseries. The Ranch on the Cariboo is a good book and while it may not make a pretty sight to the tractor jockeys, by damn it is authentic; I should know because I was raised on a similar ranch just 18 miles north.”