The first nation of hockey - and the best part of North America.

Hey...

I'm not a lumberjack, or a fur trader....
I don't live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled....
and I don't know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada,
although I'm certain they're really really nice.

I have a Prime Minister, not a president.
I speak English and French, not American.
And I pronounce it 'about', not 'a boot'.
I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack.
I believe in peace keeping, not policing,
diversity, not assimilation,
and that the beaver is a truly proud and noble animal.
A toque is a hat, a chesterfield is a couch,
and it is pronounced 'zed' not 'zee', 'zed'!!!!

Canada is the second largest landmass!
The first nation of hockey!
and the best part of North America

My name is Joe!!
And I am Canadian!!!

In a rare display of the herd instinct earlier today, I decided to wander down to Granville Island and see how Canada Day was playing out. A fragmentary little parade was winding its boisterous way through the narrow, packed streets, and Canadian flags were everywhere - t-shirts, hats, face paintings, and actual flags themselves. It was crowded, but convivial; disorganized, but friendly; all in all, the best possible picture of a nation happily celebrating its identity.

Canada Day is a very different event than the American equivalent that follows three days later. There's no militaristic element to our birthday: given the calm nature of our national reputation, it's not surprising that we legislated our way to independence, rather than fighting a war. And yet, commanding officers in both world wars commented on the unbridled ferocity with which Canadian soldiers fought - apparently when the circumstances call for it, we are more than able to make a stand.

Nonetheless, as in the famous "I AM CANADIAN" rant cited above, we believe in peace keeping, not policing, and as a result there aren't a lot of places where angry people burn the Canadian flag in protest of our actions.* (Which explains the rumour that American tourists may decide to have the ol' Maple Leaf sewed onto their backpacks instead of the Stars and Stripes.)

So, fine - what does all of this have to do with science fiction and fantasy?

My first thought was that in honour of Canada Day, I should take a look at Canadian science fiction. But you know, it gets fuzzy. Canadian author Tanya Huff was born and raised here, and continues to live in the country, but her university friend and fellow SF author S. M. Stirling relocated to New Mexico. William Gibson, originator of the cyberpunk movement, can be seen on the streets of Vancouver**, but he's originally from Texas, and Nova Scotian Spider Robinson moved to nearby Bowen Island in 2002, but grew up in the Bronx.

Even if we simplify life and decide that a Canadian author is an author who lives in Canada, it's difficult for me to identify a distinctive Canadian style for the sake of discussion. As unique voices, there are certainly lots of noteworthy Canadian authors, but I can't identify a group feeling to it, no kind of Maple Leaf Mafia. I've read opinions online that say that Canadian SF tends to examine how people exist within the future, rather than forming that future themselves, but I'm going to have to do a lot more research before I'm willing to make that judgement. And what about fantasy? Does the same comment apply in some fashion? I'm not certain that the two genres can be compared head-to-head in that way.

Okay, then....how about we look at Canada IN science fiction and fantasy? There, done - so after much preliminary debate, the next posting will compare "what if" and "once upon a time" views of the Great White North.

- Sid

* I'd like to say nowhere, but I recommend that you read Carol Off's The Lion, The Fox & The Eagle for an analysis of the mixed results of Canadian involvement in peacekeeping.

** And it's very exciting when it happens. Not long after I moved to Vancouver, I saw Mr. Gibson clumsily eating a bun as he strolled along Broadway near MacDonald - I felt all girlish for a moment, but refrained from embarrassing myself by falling at his feet à la Wayne's World and chanting "We're not worthy!!!".

Wider perspectives - or not.

As already established, I've been reading science fiction for what has effectively been my entire life. And, as a result, I think that I have an enhanced inner life, a broader imagination.

After all, I've seen Mankind skip through time like a child crossing a stream from rock to rock. I've watched post-human societies grapple with profound philosophical crises, and I've witnessed the death of the universe we know, and the start of universes unknown to us. Time itself has ended in front of my eyes, planets have been moved like pieces on a chessboard, galaxy-spanning wars for survival have been fought, and won, and lost.

And yet, and yet...half the goddamn science fiction movies that get made seem to involve nothing more thought-provoking than seemingly endless variations on hungry alien monstrosities dripping KY jelly. Sigh...

- Sid

"Just then, a horde of Nazi frogmen burst into the room."

"We should have gone to the beach like I told you!"

After a couple of long posts, a quick little tribute to a long-running gag: sorry, Laurie, the movie's just about Nazi zombies, not zombie Nazi frogmen, but I'll keep looking...

- Sid