||A Review of: The Perilous Trade: Publishing Canada∆s Writers
by Clara Thomas
Roy MacSkimming's The Perilous Trade is a comprehensive guide to
Canadian publishing from 1946 to 2003. The book has been in process
for five years, but most important, MacSkimming has been involved
in both writing and publishing in Canada since 1964 when he began
to work in Clarke Irwin's warehouse. He is uniquely qualified to
trace our publishing history. In the late 60s and 70s Canada's
burgeoning cultural nationalism made anything seem possible and
quite often, against all odds, it was. There is a strong undercurrent
of optimism in his work, a holdover from those days: what happened
once can happen again. In spite of our publishing's present battered
state: "Whether it will regain the vigour of its experimental,
innovative, risk-taking youth, infused with fresh human and financial
capital, or subside into working as a seed farm for writers destined
for the internationals is a question yet to be settled. Neither
outcome is inevitable."
With the end of WW II in 1945, a period of unprecedented growth
began for writing and publishing in Canada. John Morgan Gray, who
had begun working as a sales representative for Macmillan in the
30s returned in 1946 after war service to succeed the brilliant,
unpredictable Hugh Eayrs as Manager, then, shortly, as President.
Similarly, Jack McClelland, after release from the Navy, joined his
father's firm, McClelland and Stewart, becoming President in 1952.
In 1948, William Toye joined the Oxford University Press, Canada,
and in 1953 Marsh Jeanneret, who had worked as a textbook traveller
for Copp Clark, became the Director of the University of Toronto
Press. Along with Lorne Pierce of the Ryerson Press, a tireless
Canadian enthusiast since his appointment in 1922, these men dominated
the book trade in the fifties. They were in the forefront of the
advances that began to gather impetus in those post-war years. This
cast would fit nicely into a dramatization: Pierce the benevolent,
anxious father, Gray the cautious oldest brother, Toye and Jeanneret
each gifted, hard-working and successful within their chosen fields,
and McClelland the maverick, charming, impulsive, an unfailing
magnet for publicity good and bad. Though MacSkimming is notably
even-handed in his treatment of his cast, McClelland is inevitably
its hero, a rogue hero to be sure, but always well remembered and
always attracting the spotlight.
MacSkimming's greatest skill is his ability to combine enormous
amounts of information with personal and anecdotal sketches of these
and many later movers and shakers. His treatment, well-salted with
humour, is at all times intensely readable, giving chapter after
chapter the compulsive page-turning appeal of a good novel. His own
experience in writing both fiction and non-fiction serves him well.
The chapter titles alone are an entertainment: two on McClelland
and Stewart, "Prince of Publishers" and "Surviving
Prince Jack", or "Printed in Canada by Mindless Acid
Freaks" on the rise of small publishers, Coach House, Anansi
and New Press among them. He captures the temper of those amazing
days of the late sixties and seventies when "the indigenous
industry was fighting for its life" and at the same time was
spawning ever more hopeful newcomers.
In 1949 the appointment by the St. Laurent government of the
Massey-Levesque Commission, with five royal commissioners, was a
giant step forward: they called for briefs and travelled the country
to hearings in sixteen cities, finding a uniformly sad state of
affairs in broadcasting, the arts, and scholarly and scientific
research. Their recommendations, tabled in 1951 and called the
"Report of the Royal Commission on National Development in the
Arts, Letters and Sciences", were solidly in favour of government
intervention with funds on all fronts. The Canada Council with its
granting system was one of the Commission's achievements, as was
the National Library, its mandate the collection of Canadiana.
In 1955, the cause of Canadian literature and its publishing took
another important step forward with the "Canadian Writers'
Conference", a three-day gathering at Queen's University. Frank
Scott, poet, constitutional lawyer and one of the writers of the
Regina Manifesto, the founding document of the present NDP, was the
driving force behind the gathering. There were eighty-one invitees,
an impressive group of writers, publishers and teachers, and though
their report, published the next year, identified massive problems
and "dismal situations" on all sides, the conference left
an aftermath of dawning collegiality and stubborn optimism, justified
as it turned out, by the Canada Council's establishment in 1957.
After Chapter 10, "The Rise of the West", documents the
work of Gray Campbell, the founding of Douglas and McIntyre and the
huge achievement of Mel Hurtig and James Marsh in producing The
Canadian Encyclopedia, the canvas becomes crowded. Large numbers
of new presses jostle for place among the old established and
increasingly challenged companies. The advent of the computer vastly
enabled newcomers while also vastly complicating the whole scene.
MacSkimming acknowledges the difficulty in his source notes:
"I'm conscious of not having devoted equal space to all the
deserving. Certain presses seem to me more emblematic than others
of their time and place." His chapter, "The Mavericks of
KidLit", is one of these, a much deserved recognition of a
branch of our publishing which from a standing start became and has
remained a consistently successful and much admired enterprise.
Inevitably the final chapters, "Wars of Succession" and
"No Publisher's Paradise" cast dark shadows over the
future: the collapse of Stoddart Publishing was a bitter blow and
the infiltration of the multinationals is a constant hazard: "an
enduring national publishing industry can't subsist on authors who
move on to the multinationals after a book or two." Though
money is always the bottom line, hope remains-stubborn entrepreneurship
is ageless and endless.
A chronology, "Canadian Book Publishing, 1946 to May 2003"
and an unusually informal and informative chapter by chapter
"Sources" follow the text, along with a list of the
ninety-nine persons interviewed on tape. For everyone in any way
connected to the book trade this book is essential reading. More
than that, it is an extremely satisfying history of the good-and
bad-fortunes of our literary culture. Most of all, it is an ongoing
tribute to the many men and women who believed enough in our writers
to stake their careers, against all odds, on publishing, The Perilous