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Ken Wilson

Goodreads Author


Born
in Brantford, Ontario, Canada
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Robert Macfarlane, Ariel Gordon, Iain Sinclair, Tanis MacDonald, Willi ...more

Member Since
May 2012

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Ken Wilson is a settler who grew up in the Haldimand Tract in southwestern Ontario. He lives on Treaty 4 territory in oskana kâ-asastêki (Regina, Saskatchewan), where he is an assistant professor in the Department of English and Creative Writing at the University of Regina. His forthcoming book, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place from the Side of the Road, is his first; its manuscript won the 2022 City of Regina Writing Award. His second, Walking Well, will appear in 2026. He blogs about things he reads and walks he makes at readingandwalking.ca.

Average rating: 4.86 · 7 ratings · 4 reviews · 1 distinct workSimilar authors
Walking the Bypass

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Ken Wilson is now friends with Farzana Doctor
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Walking the Bypass by Ken     Wilson
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Walking the Bypass by Ken     Wilson
"This book is an essential read for all Canadians. Wilson combines in-depth research with astounding prose, documenting his walks on a land ravaged by the effects of post-colonialism and late-stage capitalism. The triad of deep research and, at times," Read more of this review »
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Quotes by Ken Wilson  (?)
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“Kathleen takes my picture. She emails it to me later. I look ridiculous with the orange Buff pulled up over my head. We say goodbye and I continue walking past fields of swathed canola. Houses stand beyond them. I’m walking the interface between the country and the city: a shallow space, with fields butting up against houses, industry and agriculture commingled. The stubble is a rusty colour. Crispy blue J Cloth towels, scraps of sky, are caught in the roadside weeds.”
Ken Wilson, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place From the Side of the Road

“I walk back across the overpass. A police car speeds by, lights flashing and siren wailing. A flock of red-winged blackbirds is singing in an overgrown dugout. There are so many of them; every slough and dugout has its own population. I surprise a pair of ducks, which splash into the air. I cross the Canadian Pacific Railway tracks. A Towmotor grumbles in the yard at Brandt Industries. I pick up a quartz crystal from the shoulder—discarded, perhaps, because its curative powers were exaggerated. An abandoned shoe lies next to the road. A plastic bag in a dry slough moves in the wind like a wounded bird.”
Ken Wilson, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place From the Side of the Road

“Everything I can see from the shoulder of this highway—all the land, stretching far beyond the horizon in every direction—was the exclusive territory of Indigenous Peoples before settlers arrived and claimed ownership. What gives me—or any other settler—the right to be here? Is there any ethical basis for my presence here on Treaty 4 land? Or am I here only because of colonialist arguments like terra nullius, the doctrine of occupation, and the doctrine of discovery?”
Ken Wilson, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place From the Side of the Road

“I walk back across the overpass. A police car speeds by, lights flashing and siren wailing. A flock of red-winged blackbirds is singing in an overgrown dugout. There are so many of them; every slough and dugout has its own population. I surprise a pair of ducks, which splash into the air. I cross the Canadian Pacific Railway tracks. A Towmotor grumbles in the yard at Brandt Industries. I pick up a quartz crystal from the shoulder—discarded, perhaps, because its curative powers were exaggerated. An abandoned shoe lies next to the road. A plastic bag in a dry slough moves in the wind like a wounded bird.”
Ken Wilson, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place From the Side of the Road

“Kathleen takes my picture. She emails it to me later. I look ridiculous with the orange Buff pulled up over my head. We say goodbye and I continue walking past fields of swathed canola. Houses stand beyond them. I’m walking the interface between the country and the city: a shallow space, with fields butting up against houses, industry and agriculture commingled. The stubble is a rusty colour. Crispy blue J Cloth towels, scraps of sky, are caught in the roadside weeds.”
Ken Wilson, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place From the Side of the Road

“Everything I can see from the shoulder of this highway—all the land, stretching far beyond the horizon in every direction—was the exclusive territory of Indigenous Peoples before settlers arrived and claimed ownership. What gives me—or any other settler—the right to be here? Is there any ethical basis for my presence here on Treaty 4 land? Or am I here only because of colonialist arguments like terra nullius, the doctrine of occupation, and the doctrine of discovery?”
Ken Wilson, Walking the Bypass: Notes on Place From the Side of the Road

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