Worscht en Rhubuaba

Posted on March 7, 2013 by doradueck

Worscht en Rhubuaba. I can’t actually say it, not correctly at least, not having grown up with Low German (though I learned to understand it as a adult living in Paraguay for a couple of years), but I spent Saturday and part of Sunday last week at an arts festival by that name. Meaning sausage and rhubarb. It was a Manitoba Mennonite Creative Arts Festival so the reference was perfectly appropriate, if somewhat nostalgic, given that nowadays Mennonite writing (“if there is such a thing” — a question one of the Round Tables asked) is so large, so diverse, so out of the village. But never mind that, it was a great event, put together by the energetic and talented Di Brandt and others from Brandon University (Dale Lakevold, Audrey Thiessen). Continue reading →

Do I have to, really?

Posted on February 28, 2013 by doradueck

Okay, let’s just say the writing – now that I’m back to it, post the diary transcription project – is a bit of a slog at the moment.

The cover of the latest issue of Write, the magazine of The Writers’ Union of Canada, features a map by Patrick Dias, country unnamed but obviously Land of the Writer. If you’re looking for me, I’m wandering around in Frustrating Canyons, probably on my way to Crumpled Detour. Continue reading →

The Pope’s legacy

Posted on February 19, 2013 by doradueck

Pope Benedict’s surprising resignation on Monday, February 11, — the first pope to resign in 600 years, we’re told — has, not surprisingly, unleashed a great deal of commentary, from speculation about the reasons (besides his health) to musings about the retirement of elderly leaders in general. There are tributes and assessments of his writing and achievements. Others are less willing to line up with accolades. It should not be forgotten, they say, how dreadful Pope Benedict’s record is on the sex abuse of children at the hands of church leaders.

I find the words of political commentator Andrew Sullivan (see this column also) significant on the matter of Pope Benedict’s legacy. And after all that, I caught part of the documentary “Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God” on CBC-TV’s The Passionate Eye on Sunday evening. That night, it was hard to fall asleep.

I mean no disrespect to my dear friends who are Catholic, but in this context, I find the images one often sees of Pope Benedict’s red shoes and white robes chilling; they seem an indictment.