Thursday, June 20, 2024

Michael Turner : Tribute

folio : Barry McKinnon (1944-2023)

 

 


I was saddened to hear of Barry’s passing. He was good fun and a great poet. Barry had invited me to visit with his students in Prince George on a couple of occasions, which I enjoyed because they were conversant in a number of literary conversations, while patiently waiting to align with their own. Prince George was also where I met Barry’s brother-in-[college administrative]-arms John Harris, whose Small Rain (1988) I love as much as I love Barry’s “making landscape/ of self” Pulp Log.

 It was Pulp Log (Caitlin), John Pass’s The Hour’s Acropolis (Harbour) and my first book, Company Town (Arsenal Pulp) that were nominated for the 1992 Dorothy Livesay B.C. Book Prize for Poetry. That was where I met Barry, who, when we were introduced, seemed friendly but understandably distracted, and John, who, if I were Anthony Powell, I would describe as a happily impatient man. This is an awful story, one that if it were to happen today would more than likely have the three of us united, despite the fact that it fell so heavily on John. 

When the award for the poetry prize was announced, it was John’s name that was called, and he bounded onto the stage more relieved than impatient. I don’t remember all that he said, but I do remember him saying this: “And finally, I would like to thank my wife, to whom living with is pure poetry.” And with that, I had to leave because my band was playing that night in Victoria.

A couple days later I was back in Vancouver, checking my answering machine, when I came upon a message from Brian at Arsenal Pulp, requesting that I call him. Brian asked if I’d heard anything about the poetry prize, I said no, and he told me it was given to the wrong person -- that it should have gone to Barry.

The reason for the cock up is complicated, an administrative problem, a case of best intentions going awry. I remember Brian doing a good job of describing how the error happened, just as I remember years later Barry telling me that, although he went home with his cheque, the B.C. Book Prizes decided John should keep the one handed to him and, with a grin that told me I was at this point in my professional life both in need of a poke and able to take one, that “The real loser of the night was you, Turner. Because unlike John and me, you lost twice!”

 

 

 

 

Michael Turner's most recent book Playlist: a Profligacy of Your Least-Expected Poems is forthcoming from Anvil Press this summer, 2024.