A is a work of fiction in which Andre Alexis presents the compelling narrative of Alexander Baddeley, a Toronto book reviewer obsessed with the work of the elusive and mythical poet Avery Andrews. Baddeley is in awe with Andrews's ability as a poet - more than anything he wants to understand the inspiration behind his work - so much so that, following in the footsteps of countless pilgrims throughout literary history, Baddeley actually tracks Andrews down thinking that meeting his literary hero will provide some answers. Their meeting results in a meditation and a revelation about the creative act itself that generates more and more questions about what it means to be "inspired." Alexis further develops this narrative through a reflection in essay form presented as an annex that build layers of thought upon not only the original narrative, but provides Alexis's own motives (and perhaps, obsessions) behind writing A.
André Alexis was born in Trinidad and grew up in Canada. His most recent novel, Fifteen Dogs, won the 2015 Scotiabank Giller Prize and the Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize. His debut novel, Childhood, won the Books in Canada First Novel Award, the Trillium Book Award, and was shortlisted for the Giller Prize and the Writers' Trust Fiction Prize. His other books include Pastoral (nominated for the Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize), Asylum, Beauty and Sadness, Ingrid & the Wolf, Despair and Other Stories of Ottawa and Lambton, Kent and Other Vistas: A Play.
A tight little 74-page novella that comes as close as anything I've ever read to conveying the nearly incomprehensible compunction to write.
Here's a snippet: For a very long time after this, it did not matter to [the writer] what or who was at the heart of his ritual . . .: God, his own imagination, the devil, or the errant fumes of anaesthetic and soap. It did not matter whether the places he went were inside of him or not, whether the things he experienced were taking place, had taken place, or would take place. It did not seem to him that the words he dispersed over the pages of his Hilroy notebooks were any sort of compensation for this traumatic empathy.
Surrender to inspiration is described as: persistence in the service of a "God" who was unstable and wayward.
I am so grateful for those who are willing to subject themselves to traumatic empathy and continue to write novels for me to read.
This tiny novel is both clever and humourous, fantastical and bitterly realistic. In the span of only 74 pages, Andre Alexis has written a book with all the technical prowess of a short story, and all the depth of a 300 page novel. (He even manages a cameo). Wry and satirical, A provokes thought, as well as a good chuckle.It is a book reviewer's book; A love letter and a jab at the world of Canadian Literature, all wrapped up in one.
This slim volume packs a punch above well above its 92 page length would initially lead one to imagine.
I read it at one go; pondering and wondering, arguing [with myself, with the book and with the author], and liking it. Actually liking it a lot.
Ostensibly this book is about a mediocre book reviewer, Alexander Baddeley, who is obsessed with a well-regarded poet who, as it happens is a recluse. So, “A” our protagonist and almost certainly a stand-in for Alexis decides to track the poet down and succeeds. Thenceforth things get interesting.
The poet, Avery Andrews [also “A”], is not disturbed by being stalked and found. In fact he welcomes it and [spoiler alert] informs Alexander that he is happy to meet his “assassin”. But first Avery wishes to introduce Alexander to his “muse”.
Previous to this point in the narrative we entered terra fantastika. A manner of writing now mainstream everywhere in the developed world, including Canada; but which, in Canada, gets little to no respect.
Alexis employs a unique mix of fantasy, fable, magic realism and meta-textuality to explore the sources of inspiration and the creative impulse. The crisp prose belies a penetrating inquest. Despite the spare & realistic trappings of the narrative, one can scarcely imagine such a work written in the strict realist mode beloved by exponents of the CanLit canon.
So we now have the two main concerns of “A”: the well-springs of creativity and the inherent futility of a literature [and its exponents] which eschews and belittles any writing mode other than its own fossilized genre. Alexis relishes poking fun at the CanLit genre and and some of its leading lights. (I must admit that perhaps I enjoyed these passages more than I ought to have. Oh well.)
Fascinatingly, although Alexis is embraced by CanLit “respectability”, he clearly chafes at the restraints the genre attempts to impose. In fact, here, he writes as an outsider and writes in a mode calculated to unsettle the canon keepers.
Intriguing. “A” is a gem that can be read in one sitting. A delightfully provocative attempt to uncover the most mysterious of arts: creative writing and its elusive companion, inspiration. It is the story of a doleful book reviewer named Alexander Baddeley whose singular passion is following the work of Avery Andrews, a reclusive and mythical poet. This leads Baddeley on a quest with a surprising outcome. His wanderings through the well known streets of Toronto, and the author’s rather naughty literary name dropping add to the shock value, the contrast between outward appearances versus inner angst. I like the author’s neat approach to the concept of God, (Baddeley is advised that the word has a trillion meanings, and “I am and I am not what you mean by it.”) Author Alexis eloquently describes the compulsion to write, never mind what, “novel, fable, poem, recipe… it was all the same.” Along with the disappointment that comes later, when the character measures what he’s written against his own ideals. For all it’s suffering, this is a strangely comforting tale.
I am not sure I liked this book. I feel like this book hasn't left me with any questions, other than "what was this story about?"
I didn't really understand the need for "God" in the story. I kind of thought the story was about finding your own ability to write, but for some reason it came from "God".
There was also a lot of referencing the the literaity of Toronto which was maybe to ground the book in realism.
I found the writing to be excellent. It is really what pulled me though the story.
A is many thing: a gothic mystery in the same vain as Poe, a panoramic of Canadian literature unveiled with Bolaño's exuberance, a hallucinatory introspective odyssey of Kaufman's calibre... Like Bolaño's 2666, the story concerns a critic in search of a beloved author. But the story takes a gothic turn when the critic discovers the author and learns the perverse method behind his inspiration. "Madness" doesn't begin to describe it. This method, in its defiance of logic, physics, or any rational explanation, is as baffling and bizarre as the idiosyncratic filmography of Charlie Kaufman. Alexis, having been established in the Canadian literary scene since the 90s, writes with a mix of authority and humour, describing the tedium of a book launch, or comparing the appearance of his fellow authors to animals. All are named, from Margaret Atwood to Michael Ondaatje, with the exception of Gil Davidoff. Davidoff, who is described as "a mediocre novelist who thought highly of himself" (pg. 12), is undoubtedly inspired by David Gilmour, the author and disgraced professor who is also notorious for his feud with Alexis. The most notable comparison between Gil Davidoff and David Gilmour (aside from their names), is Davidoff's confession to the protagonist, that he's writing a nonfiction book "about all the great television I'm making my son watch" (pg. 62), undoubtedly referring to Gilmour's book The Film Club: A True Story of a Father and Son.
Solid 3.5 Magical Realism novella which I found a bit confusing but a fabulously written tale of a reviewer that wanted to be an author, and his compulsion to write. Is it satirical - I feel I would gain a greater appreciation if I knew more about the world and experience of the Canadian literary landscape, and I was very unclear why the source of the novels/poems had to be deiform .
I have never visited Toronto, but the City was writ large in this novella. And I found the brief cameos' of other Canadian writers at a prestigous event the end of the novel quite astounding.
Alexander Baddeley, a Toronto book reviewer is obsessed with the work of the elusive and mythical poet Avery Andrews. The novel, therefore, is a meditation on the creative act itself and what it means to be inspired. It was interesting to read but it did not inspire reflection and is not a story that will stay with me.
"A" must be for "The Aleph" by Jorge Luis Borges, but that's just the starting point....
Question for André Alexis: did the poems in “A” come first or were they written in the context of the story? I’m assuming the former, but rather hoping for the latter.
I read "A" in André Alexis's The Night Piece: Collected Short Fiction.
A very insightful work on creativity and inspiration. Alexis’ prose is mesmerizing and his use of dialogue, as well as Baddeley’s internal monologues offer a unique perspective on the nature of perceived true success compared to inherent creativity. A short novella, but a joy to read!
All of the scenes containing the character of god are gold. All the other scenes are ok or not that entertaining at best sadly. I was hoping for a little more with this one I can't tell if it is supposed to be super philosophical or just he didn't know what to write next.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A, by André Alexis packs an incredible amount to enjoy and ponder in its infectious 74 pages.
To start, it’s a charming celebration of place. As Toronto book reviewer and aspiring poet and novelist Alexander Baddeley makes his way through his city’s streets and neighbourhoods, they are shown as simultaneously muted and vibrant, welcoming in understated fashion:
“It was again November. Parkdale was grey, but it was a soft grey. Its streets were wet; its pedestrians in half-unbuttoned coats.”
There's a long waiting list at the library to borrow Fifteen Dogs, so I thought I'd try reading one of Alexis' earlier works in the meantime. I am now more excited to read FD than ever. "A" blew me away. All of 72 pages, and I felt I knew these characters, and inhabited their world. The opening chapter was my favourite: the description of Baddeley and his little, superficial life was excellent. I was awestruck by word choices like "glacially perfect," or "the small world lodged in the throat of" a restaurant.
His descriptions of the Canadian literary scene were most entertaining, and I'm guessing might have pissed off a few people. The imagining of the source of a writer's inspiration was frightening and fascinating.
I have one, admittedly unimportant, criticism: I hate the cover. I know, I know: Never judge a book by it's cover. But I find this one terribly misleading. When I first saw it, I thought the library had held the wrong book. Why would a novel about the source of an artist's inspiration, set in modern-day Toronto, have a strange image from a Medieval hospital on the cover? The hospital is the only part of the image that's relevant. With Alexis' current success, hopefully the publisher will re-print this excellent novella with a more enticing and modern-looking cover.
This is my first time reading AA, and I really enjoyed it. For anyone IN the Toronto Lit scene, this is a great little novella featuring a cast of familiar characters.
A small novella that plays with being meta about the Canadian literary scene & works through some insecurities that authors may or might have about writing, publishing, publicity, and the divide between poetry and prose. Nothing earth-shaking or groundbreaking, but it takes the reader on a perfectly pleasant & contemplative journey of discovery.