Griffin Grumpiness

What happens when a poetry prize that once seemed to elevate the work of Canadian poets now doesn't?

What I have most loved about the Griffin Poetry Prize over the years since it began is how it made me more aware of the richness of Canadian poetry. I can’t say that anymore since its shift towards a different format in Fall 2022.

Previous to that, the Griffin had awarded two prizes—$65, 000 for a Canadian poet and the same amount for an international poet. In 2022, that format was restructured to be just one massive prize of $130,000 that would be open to international poets.

In the years since then, we’ve seen the names of Canadians on the long list, but never one at the top. That’s been disheartening to see happen—from my distant perch in the wilds of Northern Ontario. This year, there’s not a single Canadian poet on the long list, which is—quite honestly—terribly disappointing.

Founding Griffin trustee, Margaret Atwood, is quoted on the Griffin Poetry Prize’s website home page as having said, at some point:

“At a time when censorship and attacks on a diverse array of writers are on the rise in many countries—including the United States—it’s heartening to see such a strong vote of confidence in poets coming from Canada. Poetry is not a minor art form; it is the crucible of human language.”

I’d agree with all of this—with the exception that the Griffin Poetry Prize’s shift in format has basically annihilated the Griffin as a literary incubator for Canadian poets. At one point, it was “the prize” that Canadian poets aspired to even be long listed for, as that carried some weight in Can Lit poetic circles. Not so much now.

I have to say that I’m grateful for the Griffin Trust and it’s work with Poetry in Voice Canada. As a poet, and as a classroom teacher, I’ve taken part in Poetry in Voice in two different capacities, and I think that Poetry in Voice’s work is groundbreaking and encourages the love of poetry in young people across Canada. The paid opportunity for poets to visit classrooms is crucial.

As a teacher, I’ve seen fledgling poets light up when a visiting poet comes in, and I’ve seen teachers light up, too, when—as a visiting poet myself in pervious years—they may have become jaded in teaching poetry. (That’s something to do with teacher education programs, though, and—as Hammy Hamster would say—a story for another day or post…)

Looking at the various social media feeds of poets yesterday and today, it’s easy to see that there’s a collective sigh of disgust that not one of yesterday’s long listed poetry collections are Canadian. Such sighs are well deserved. In a time when Can Lit folks (writers and publishers) are fighting for funding and copyright reform, and also fighting against AI in so many ways, this feels a particularly bitter pill to swallow.

I’m writing this as a published poet of six books of poetry, and two chapbooks, not in any official capacity or role with The Writers’ Union of Canada. As a poet who’s worked in Canadian poetry since 1997, it’s brutal to see one more vehicle that might elevate our art as Canadian poets just sort of disappear. It’s not the same Griffin Poetry Prize I’ve known and loved over the years.

Living in Sudbury means that I’ve never attended the fancy readings by poets in Toronto’s fancy places, but I’ve been able to see those readings online and also celebrate the hard work of my fellow poets—so many of whom I consider friends, and not just colleagues.

In a year where I’ve witnessed so many instances of book censorship across Canada, and when I’ve heard of many little regional literary festivals struggle like hell to survive, it’s just another blow to the arts and culture sector in Canada. It’s a blow to the literary arts, in particular.

Some will debate prize culture, say it’s not worthwhile. I’d respectfully disagree. For a poet who lives in an area outside of a major city centre, I’ve learned to read the work of other Canadian poets through keeping up on long lists over the decades I’ve been in the field. I’ve reached out to fellow poets from far away (geographically speaking) to say I’ve loved and admired their work, and I’ve become friends with many of them. For me, the poetry (and literary) prizes Canada offers have been ways for me to learn more about the world of poetry—other people’s, as well as my own. (Poets in larger centres will often know one another and literary events are easily organized, just given proximity and geography. It makes perfect sense—the communities of poets have been historically defined geographically in this particular way.)

I read a lot of Canadian poetry. A. Lot. This past year has been chock full of stunning work by so many fantastic Canadian poets. The fact that not a single one I’d thought might be on the Griffin long list isn’t on there….is heartbreaking and frustrating.

When we say “elbows up,” that also needs to include “elbows up” to supporting our Canadian literary presses and authors.

To do anything less—it feels to me—is detrimental to our collective creation of a literary culture.

Poets, please keep at it: keep thinking, reading, and writing; keep conversing with one another; keep connecting to create a community that honours, celebrates, and elevates our work individually, but even more importantly as a whole community of folks. There are so many diverse and dynamic poetic voices to listen to and hear that it’s our responsibility to just keep at it, to keep on.

I think it was Bronwen Wallace who once wrote in an interview I read a loonnnng time ago that we must “keep on keeping on,” and she’s one of my lighthouse poet souls, so perhaps we can also think of her work at times like these…

Keep on keeping on, poet friends and colleagues.

k.