Introduction, Academic Language & my dislike of genre

Greetings,

My name is Dane Swan and I'll be your Writer in Residence for February. I'm sure that it's just coincidence that I'm the Writer in Residence for February, but since it is Black History month in North America and the Caribbean, race will be part of the conversation that I hope to have with you guys.

Additionally, I'm planning to interview and profile a handful of authors, share my thoughts on writing and hopefully review a couple events.

A bit about myself, I live in Toronto. As my bio indicates, I've had two poetry collections published by Guernica Editions. My third book is a novella that I'm working with Grey Borders on. I'm currently shopping my third poetry collection. Also, I don't believe in genre.

For some reason, people get upset when you say that genre doesn't exist. However, I think as an author the worst thing you could do is put restraints on what a work is, or could be. Furthermore, I've always tied codifying art into genre, with exploitation and erasure. That said, I don't fully disagree with an academic perspective of creativity.

Fall 2015, I started a small multi-arts collective, MXTP_CLTRS (Mixtape Cultures). What I learned, as someone who dives into projects with little academic points of reference, is that language matters. If there is something that an academic perspective gives a creative person, it is a common language which makes collaboration easier. However, that language limits you to only being able to communicate with those who follow the same school of thought.

In our original configuration, there was probably too many of us. More importantly, there were too many of us who couldn't communicate with one another. I found myself acting as a liaison between poet and performance artist, performance artist and musician, poet and musician. Everyone was comfortable talking to me – I'm a blank slate willing to learn from any school of thought. But, few of the collective's collaborators were comfortable contacting each other directly without me, despite the fact that we all get along swimmingly. I've had to regroup, and attack our projects as smaller projects.

Language matters. As I take more risks creatively, I need to learn how to communicate with people who work in poetry, prose, theatre, and multimedia so that I can expand the list of writers and creators I can collaborate with. My perspective on genre shouldn't be a hurdle for my goals. I can't limit the people I can work with because of my school of thought.

Many of the writers reading this likely come from one school of thought. Maybe you call your work, and surround yourself with writers who call their work “lyrical,” or “Post Modern,” or “Contemporary,” or “Avante Garde.” These are more than labels. You've boxed yourself into a limited language of understanding, not only the works of others, but also, understanding your own work.

I find little exciting, or new, because poets are so comfortable placing their whole cannon into a single box. The really cool stuff happens when you combine an idea you heard from a young, experimental poet with a thought that an elder musician shared with you years before. Or, understanding the theatrical devices that a slam poet used, and expounding on that with a work that combines sound poetry and contemporary work. Or, when you notice the link between dub poetry and post-modern poetry. That chase for knowledge, which I thought academia was about, is not happening.

Instead, writers are authoring work concerned with trend. Not message. Not language. Trend.

When photocopy machines had just come out, bp Nichol used to go to photocopy shops and photocopy something. He would then take the new photocopy and photocopy that. He would then take the photocopy of a photocopy and photocopy that. After doing this a number of times, he would be left with a dark, blurry mess. To me, that's the state of Canada's literature. What does the term Can Lit even mean, if every book of poetry is a bad, distorted photocopy?

Maybe it's time that we create poetry that flips the term poetry on it's head. Stop calling what we're doing poetry and call it something new, or, stop calling it anything. Let it become what it becomes. Some may say that my work is too social justice driven to even discuss what Can Lit should be. Or that my subjects are often Caribbean, or from the US. I would argue that part of expanding the language of a literature is expanding the geographic space, and people we speak about.

“But Dane, you don't even believe in Genre!”

Is Can Lit a genre in the traditional sense? A set of ideals that authors must follow? A geographic indicator of birth, or residency? Academic language is important. But sometimes, new academic languages have to be created. If Can Lit is truly a thing, let's created a language that fully encapsulates all of it.

I hope you guys enjoy this month with me.