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Ashland
In the dusty main streets of an unnamed West, this collection of stories features little European villages, a sanitarium in the mountains, Mounties, madwomen, long-dead gunslingers, thieves, lost children, and wolves.
- GenresPoetry
100 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 2006
4 people are currently reading
141 people want to read
About the author
Gil Adamson
9 books188 followersGil Adamson (born Gillian Adamson, 1961) is a Canadian writer. She won the Books in Canada First Novel Award in 2008 for her 2007 novel The Outlander.
Adamson's first published work was "Primitive," a volume of poetry, in 1991. She followed up with the short story collection "Help Me, Jacques Cousteau" in 1995 and a second volume of poetry, "Ashland," in 2003, as well as multiple chapbooks and a commissioned fan biography of Gillian Anderson, "Mulder, It’s Me," which she coauthored with her sister-in-law Dawn Connolly in 1998.
"The Outlander," a novel set in the Canadian West at the turn of the 20th century, was published by House of Anansi in the spring of 2007 and won the Hammett Prize that year. The novel was later selected for the 2009 edition of Canada Reads, where it was championed by actor Nicholas Campbell.
Adamson currently lives in Toronto with poet Kevin Connolly.
Adamson's first published work was "Primitive," a volume of poetry, in 1991. She followed up with the short story collection "Help Me, Jacques Cousteau" in 1995 and a second volume of poetry, "Ashland," in 2003, as well as multiple chapbooks and a commissioned fan biography of Gillian Anderson, "Mulder, It’s Me," which she coauthored with her sister-in-law Dawn Connolly in 1998.
"The Outlander," a novel set in the Canadian West at the turn of the 20th century, was published by House of Anansi in the spring of 2007 and won the Hammett Prize that year. The novel was later selected for the 2009 edition of Canada Reads, where it was championed by actor Nicholas Campbell.
Adamson currently lives in Toronto with poet Kevin Connolly.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
March 16, 2021
Southern Gothic; Ruthless, Rugged, Savage - experimental...
Unpleasant Coincidence
It's night in Unpleasant Coincidence.
An eclipse yet.
We leave the rain-soaked horses in the hotel bar
which has no roof, no walls, no bar.
Women are everywhere in lighted tents,
their heads making fists of shadow.
But because I am dressed like a man,
I must stand out here and wallow in my success.
The galaxies spin overhead, getting a bead on us all.
We pray for food and a terrified bird
falls into our hands. I get the feet.
"Let's go," says my chorus of lice.
"Let's get out of here."
But that's what they said last time,
and now look where we are.
Author Acknowledgements
The title Ashland and the name Verken were taken from Wisconsin Death Trip by Michael Lesy. The inspiration for Here's your Money came from the first page of The Assassination of Jesse James by Ron Hansen....
November 16, 2012
I honestly never had the chance to read a modern poet to whom I could relate this much. I was fascinated by every single poem in "Ashland" because it all made poetic sense to me. Not to criticize other contemporary poets since certainly my literary knowledge is not good enough to read objectively some modern works; however, it is refreshing to read a poetry book with a strong common denominator among poems. Praises to Gil Adamson for she's a beautiful writer.
January 28, 2022
My grandmother is on my back, her glamorous hands slapping at my cheeks like soft gloves. I am her legs. I see forward with her eyes, while she buries her face in my long, wild hair.
When I was young, she tied small gold bells to my bed to keep me awake. She ignored the neighbours like they were a truckload of pigeons. On the blackest evenings she took me to the railway tunnel to watch the burning eye of God coming. "There are no stories," she warned me, "Everything is true."
* * *
I have an alias I have never used. Under my pen-name I have produced nothing. This is the way it has been for years, the children mocking me as I take my leash for a walk. And now you come to knock on my door? Well, you may be lovely - you are lovely - but I cannot change now, after so long a time. The only thing I will divulge is the name of the dirty coward who used to live here.
* * *
Dead men go along the road
in twos and threes,
waving goodbye with their toes.
The scaffold folds into a suitcase!
"Will wonders ever cease?" we ask,
and the hangman, who is blind,
kindly and richly says, "Yes."
* * *
They enter the foothills looking for her.
The dogs run before them.
In a snow-covered alpine meadow
they pause, breathing vapour.
For once, the dogs shut up.
A nesting bird erupts at them,
drags a wing deceitfully behind.
The hounds are on it in a second.
The hidden nest is not so secret now;
little eggs feel the chill already.
Omens like this are rare,
and the men chuckle, not to each other.
She cannot escape them now.
When I was young, she tied small gold bells to my bed to keep me awake. She ignored the neighbours like they were a truckload of pigeons. On the blackest evenings she took me to the railway tunnel to watch the burning eye of God coming. "There are no stories," she warned me, "Everything is true."
- Tunnel, pg. 6
* * *
I have an alias I have never used. Under my pen-name I have produced nothing. This is the way it has been for years, the children mocking me as I take my leash for a walk. And now you come to knock on my door? Well, you may be lovely - you are lovely - but I cannot change now, after so long a time. The only thing I will divulge is the name of the dirty coward who used to live here.
- Coward, pg. 13
* * *
Dead men go along the road
in twos and threes,
waving goodbye with their toes.
The scaffold folds into a suitcase!
"Will wonders ever cease?" we ask,
and the hangman, who is blind,
kindly and richly says, "Yes."
- Rattling By, pg. 34
* * *
They enter the foothills looking for her.
The dogs run before them.
In a snow-covered alpine meadow
they pause, breathing vapour.
For once, the dogs shut up.
A nesting bird erupts at them,
drags a wing deceitfully behind.
The hounds are on it in a second.
The hidden nest is not so secret now;
little eggs feel the chill already.
Omens like this are rare,
and the men chuckle, not to each other.
She cannot escape them now.
- Hidden, pg. 49
May 24, 2024
Forgot to review, but didn't like as much as The Outlander which I bought & have read more than once.
November 14, 2011
I was doing a trial of an ebook service called Freading and their poetry offerings included many selections from a couple of publishers. This was one of them. It had snakes on the cover and mentioned prose poems, westerns and blood in the description. So I downloaded it to try out the process.
Then I started reading some of the poems. The first one was just okay but the second one had the phrases "The river slapped the fields away" and then "Today wind rushes the empty house, licks the dinner bell inside and out. We settle down to wait. / Our lives are not what we expected. / We eat little crisp buns under the awning and peep out at the sun, the big white fury booming around in heaven."
Yessssss.
Lots of good little descriptions abound in the first, prosy, section. Prose poems are sometimes difficult for me to read because my eyes start to skim. And they can start to just sound like propositions for an atmosphere, or jottings in a dream journal. But these held together because they seemed to be talking to one another.
Then there's a really stunning long poem called "Here's Your Money".
Then I started to wonder if this was only the second Canadian poet I've read (beyond Mags Atwood).
Euphoria kind of broke the tone of the book, it wasn't really set in the world of the other poems.
Then I started reading some of the poems. The first one was just okay but the second one had the phrases "The river slapped the fields away" and then "Today wind rushes the empty house, licks the dinner bell inside and out. We settle down to wait. / Our lives are not what we expected. / We eat little crisp buns under the awning and peep out at the sun, the big white fury booming around in heaven."
Yessssss.
Lots of good little descriptions abound in the first, prosy, section. Prose poems are sometimes difficult for me to read because my eyes start to skim. And they can start to just sound like propositions for an atmosphere, or jottings in a dream journal. But these held together because they seemed to be talking to one another.
Then there's a really stunning long poem called "Here's Your Money".
Then I started to wonder if this was only the second Canadian poet I've read (beyond Mags Atwood).
Euphoria kind of broke the tone of the book, it wasn't really set in the world of the other poems.
May 29, 2011
Pointless suffering, pointless cruelty, pointless violence. It leaves me to wonder what was going on in Adamson's life when she wrote these poems. If I had not read her novel, Outlander, first, I probably would read no more of her work, feeling she is far to bleak for me to stomach. I love dystopian novels and worlds, but I like to feel that there is a point to survival.
I give Ashland three stars, not because it isn't wonderful poetry, but because I just didn't enjoy reading it very much. I preferred Outlander, which is more hopeful. I know having read that, that Adamson has another side to her, where suffering can be redemptive and the weak can grow strong and learn to survive.
However, it is quite clear that Adamson has a real gift for language. Her imagery is utterly unique and arresting, and she has a well developed ability for world building, imbuing it with a dark, gothic, violent mood. The mood, for me though, is a bit to bleak. In Ashland, she makes Cormac McCarthy look like an optimist.
I give Ashland three stars, not because it isn't wonderful poetry, but because I just didn't enjoy reading it very much. I preferred Outlander, which is more hopeful. I know having read that, that Adamson has another side to her, where suffering can be redemptive and the weak can grow strong and learn to survive.
However, it is quite clear that Adamson has a real gift for language. Her imagery is utterly unique and arresting, and she has a well developed ability for world building, imbuing it with a dark, gothic, violent mood. The mood, for me though, is a bit to bleak. In Ashland, she makes Cormac McCarthy look like an optimist.
November 26, 2012
A very thoughtful collection by a very thoughtful and talented poet!
June 15, 2013
Loved it! Great after reading the Outlander by same author. Gritty and substantial poetry.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews