Layton, Irving (Vol. 164)
Irving Layton 1912-
(Born as Irving Peter Lazarovitch) Canadian poet, short story writer, and critic.
The following entry presents an overview of Layton's career through 1999. For further information on his life and works, see CLC, Volumes 2 and 15.
Iconoclastic and brash, Layton is one of the best known and perhaps most celebrated poets in Canada. Self-styled as one of his country's greatest poets, Layton has changed the parameters of Canadian literature with his energetic, passionate, and often angry poetry in works ranging from The Cold Green Element (1955) and A Red Carpet for the Sun (1959) to A Wild Peculiar Joy (1982) and The Gucci Bag (1983). Filling nearly fifty volumes written during a career spanning nearly six decades, Layton's poetry examines both the creative and destructive instincts of humanity and frankly satirizes the flaws and foibles of contemporary society. His often belligerent, violent, and graphic love poetry has provoked controversy in both literary and public circles. Outspoken and unconventional, Layton has assiduously cultivated a global presence for contemporary Canadian poetry, partly by presenting much of his poetry as performance art and partly by spotlighting the concerns of Jewish Canadians. Details about his private life have at times captured the public's interest more than his literary works, and some readers are as much attracted to the man as to the poetry. Many commentators, however, have consistently praised Layton's lively style, ironic detachment, and satirical vision. Although Layton's inflated sense of self-worth and his controversial views about women have alienated some readers, critics have generally acknowledged the refreshing effects of Layton's essentially romantic outlook on Canadian letters and have often cited his role in renewing poetry's relevance to contemporary affairs.
Born Irving Peter Lazarovitch on March 12, 1912, in Neamtz, Romania, Layton immigrated to Canada at the age of one with his family and eventually settled in Montreal, where his mother supported the family by running a small grocery store. As a child, Layton aspired “to make music out of words,” as he called poetry; he wrote his first poem for his sixth-grade teacher, Miss Benjamin, which he later published in Dance with Desire (1986), a collection of love poetry he dedicated to his teacher. He studied at Macdonald College in Montreal where he earned a bachelor's of science degree in 1939. While there, Layton began lecturing at the Jewish Public Library and wed Faye Lynch in 1938, but his first marriage was short-lived. During World War II he served in the artillery for Canadian army from 1942 to 1943, eventually attaining the rank of lieutenant. During his enlistment, Layton co-edited, along with Louis Dudek and John Sutherland, the literary journal First Statement (later merged with Preview to become Northern Review), which aimed to expose other young and rising talent. In 1945 Layton launched his literary career by privately publishing his first volume of poetry, Here and Now (1945). That same year Layton joined the faculty at Herziliah High School in Montreal, where he taught until 1960. Upon graduating in 1946 from McGill University with a master's degree in economics and political science, he married Frances Sutherland, with whom he had a son and daughter, though this marriage, too, was brief. In 1949 Layton took the first of several positions at Sir George William University, where he taught in the English Department until 1969. In the early 1950s Layton continued to craft his poetic voice and to clarify his purpose in such works as The Long Pea-Shooter (1954) and The Cold Green Element, both of which met with minimal success. At this time Layton began voluminous correspondences with the likes of American poet Robert Creeley and Canadian writers Cid Corman and Jonathan Williams. By the late 1950s Layton received widespread critical and popular acclaim with the publication of his award-winning A Red Carpet for the Sun, which many critics consider his breakthrough work. In 1961 Layton married Aviva Cantor and had a son with her, but their marriage was later dissolved. As lecturer and poet-in-residence at William University during the 1960s, Layton developed a reputation for writing forthright and conscientious poetry with the publication of such works as The Swinging Flesh (1961), Balls for a One-Armed Juggler (1963), Periods of the Moon (1967), and The Shattered Plinths (1968). In the 1970s Layton's poems continued to test the limits of contemporary Canadian literature, beginning with Lovers and Lesser Men (1973) and The Pole-Vaulter (1974) through For My Brother Jesus (1976) and The Covenant (1977) to The Tightrope Dancer (1978) and Dropppings from Heaven (1979). Meanwhile, Layton cultivated a burgeoning celebrity status in Canada and abroad, particularly in Italy where he consequently published several Italian-language poetry editions of earlier and original collections. In 1978 Layton married Harriet Bernstein and with her had another daughter. In the early 1980s Layton published a string of volumes, including For My Neighbors in Hell (1980), Europe and Other Bad News (1981), A Wild Peculiar Joy, and The Gucci Bag, which culminated in two consecutive nominations for the Nobel Prize for literature, in 1982 and 1983. In late 1983 Layton also divorced Bernstein, which headlined national celebrity news; the next year Layton wed Anna Pottier. In 1985 Layton published his autobiography Waiting for the Messiah—covering the years between 1912 and 1946 and tracing his youth in Montreal and his efforts at becoming a poet—partly in response to Elspeth Cameron's 1985 biography entitled Irving Layton: A Portrait. When Layton was seventy-five-years-old, he published both Final Reckoning (1987) and Fortunate Exile (1987). Since then he has published a second volume of A Wild Peculiar Joy (1989), Fornalutx (1992), a collection of selected works from his entire career, and Raging Like a Fire (1993).
With their melodious tone, romantic point of view, and classical forms, Layton's poetry recalls the spiritual values of an earlier era, as they plainly confront the complacency, moral sterility, and indifference of contemporary Canadian culture and society. An epigram in Taking Sides (1977) illustrates Layton's poetic stance: “One cannot love life as much as I do … without [frustrating those] … who make it difficult to live joyously.” The preface to The Laughing Rooster (1964) essentially defines Layton's primary purpose as poet: “to change the world”—a viewpoint that informs nearly all of his poetry. Early in Layton's career, the socially- and politically-aware themes and satiric tone of such early works as Here and Now and Now Is the Place (1948) gradually become angrier and more focused in The Black Huntsman (1951). Subsequent works of the mid 1950s, like The Long Pea-Shooter and The Cold Green Element, illustrate the evolution of the skeptical and defiant voice that became Layton's hallmark. His first professional success, A Red Carpet for the Sun, is a retrospective of Layton's writings between 1942 and 1958. The poems in this work represent some of his best and best-known poems, including “In the Midst of My Fever,” which locates universal experiences in personal moments, and “The Birth of Tragedy,” which outlines the pleasure and importance of poetry for Layton. Often incorporating Western mythic themes of death and rebirth, a good deal of Layton's poetry concerns the presence of evil in the twentieth century—Auschwitz and Hiroshima, for instance—which he sees as the primary cause for the morally indifferent and culturally stagnant conditions of the contemporary world. Layton's poems also frequently rail against social injustice and denounce the materialistic bourgeoisie, exploring the elemental passions and the relationship between the physical and spiritual worlds while exalting the individual—especially the poet. Another theme of Layton's poetry calls for honesty in poetry and renewal of the poet's vocation. Balls for a One-Armed Juggler, for instance, expands the tradition of social poetry in Canadian literature and history with its meditations on the devastation of European culture and on the failure of Christian humanism following World War II. In this volume such poems as “The Real Values” and “Thanatos” confront hard truths about hypocrisy and death, while “A Tall Man Executes a Jig,” one of his most complex and controlled poems, embodies the contradictions of violence with its dichotomous structure centering on attraction-repulsion.
During the 1970s, Layton's works continued to advocate poetic honesty, social responsibility, and engagement with history in such writings as Lovers and Lesser Men and The Pole-Vaulter. Typically equating the act of writing poems with making love, these collections also reaffirm Layton's view of poetry as humanity's salvation and of the poet's societal obligation to counter complacency and other maladies. For instance, many poems in The Pole-Vaulter develop the relationship between the poet and the violence of the mid-twentieth century, most notably “For Anne Frank,” “The Final Solution,” and “The Transformation.” Violent imagery carries over into another major part of his writings: Layton's love lyrics. Many of these poems feature the exotic settings of Layton's travels during the 1960s. Most notable is The Swinging Flesh, which celebrates sexual love. Replete with sensual, erotic, and explicit details designed to shock a puritanical and complacent society, Layton's love poems often juxtapose images of love and beauty with those of violence and death. Despite its satiric edge, Layton's love poetry also expresses precise emotions for specific people, often couched in intimate detail. The Love Poems of Irving Layton, with Reverence and Delight (1984) is the definitive collection of his expressions on love and reflects his multiple responses to various stages of love, including most of Layton's best-known love poems, such as “The Day Aviva Came to Paris,” “Seduction of and by a Civilized Frenchwoman,” and “Misunderstanding.” Another large part of his oeuvre deals with the Jewish-Canadian experience from the post-Holocaust generation's vantage, specifically Layton's quest for a Jewish cultural identity in an era of moral and social decline. Avoiding religious doctrines, Periods of the Moon and The Shattered Plinths, for instance, address the cultural, historical, and philosophical aspects of Judaism, most notably in the militant “For My Two Sons” and in the accusatory “The New Sensibility,” which is aimed at other contemporary poets who have failed to engage historical and political realities in their art. Harshly focusing on the Jewish crisis during the 1940s, Layton's controversial For My Brother Jesus culminates his response to evil in the twentieth century, blaming Christianity for anti-Semitism and reclaiming Jesus for the Jews. In poems such as “Displaced Person” and “For Some of My Best Friends” a voice identifying with the Jewish Jesus articulates the tragedy of the Holocaust and charges Christianity with the downfall of European civilization. In addition to its Jewish themes, For My Brother Jesus introduces new themes of nostalgia and remembrance, of mortality and the past. For example, “On Revisiting Poros after an Absence of Ten Years” contemplates death after the loss of various close friends, memorably his writer-friend Desmond Pacey. Another poem in this collection, “Act of Creation,” expresses the energy of his newfound appreciation for the past and for history in general, which typifies the tone of subsequent works. The Covenant, The Tightrope Dancer, and Droppings from Heaven engage the usual religious themes and confrontations with mediocrity, as in the poems “Freud with All His Knowledge” and “Father and Daughter.” Other poems of the late 1970s—such as “Takeoff,” a vivid description of flight, and “Senile, My Sister Sings,”a reassessment of his appreciation of women—exhibit a renewed lyricism and wit as well as a blend of ecstasy and elegy. For My Neighbours in Hell elaborates standard themes of social injustice and spiritual death during materialistic times in such poems as “The Burning Remnant,” which ponders the survival of Jews, and “Self-Interview,” which explains Layton's pessimistic outlook on humanity. The Gucci Bag not only echoes Layton's standard mantras of “poetry-as-salvation” during proud and covetous times, but also concerns love and conflict in the face of eroding personal relationships.
Layton's works since the early 1980s increasingly concern his literary legacy. The foreword to Europe and Other Bad News is an apologia that reviews a number of critical misinterpretations of his text, clarifying his major themes for the critics while complaining about contemporary poets who have avoided the Holocaust in their art. Modeled on the poetics of the biblical Jeremiah, the romantic William Blake, Lord Byron, and Walt Whitman, and the liberated Lawrence, the poems of Europe and Other Bad News condemn society's crimes, decry evil, and celebrate the triumph of Jewish survival, most notably in “Credo,” which ponders the divinity of humanity, and in “Reingemacht,” which bemoans the deep despair of the contemporary psyche. The retrospective view on Layton's career of “In Beginnings and Other Starts,” one of the most lyrical poems in Europe and Other Bad News, introduces the principal themes that define his later works: personal introspection and re-evaluation of his literary achievements. A Wild Peculiar Joy is a comprehensive selection of Layton's work, with minor revisions, chosen by Layton himself and the Canadian poet Dennis Lee. Final Reckoning summarizes his indictment against complacency in contemporary Canadian culture. Featuring many of Layton's atypical longer narrative poems—“Socrates at the Centaur,” for instance, humorously recounts the Greek philosopher's visit at a Toronto theater—this collection emphasizes the Holocaust, murder, and death, overwhelming its comic values. Marking Layton's seventy-fifth birthday, Fortunate Exile spotlights the strength and vigor of the poet and social critic searching for meaning in his religion, gathering poems from his entire oeuvre about Jewish history and experience and intimately portraying Jewish history and people. Layton's other writings began to appear late in his career and include the essay collections Engagements (1972) and Taking Sides as well as several volumes of selected correspondence with such notable contemporary literary figures as Canadian poet Dorothy Rath and American poet Robert Creeley. An Unlikely Affair (1980) chronicles Layton's relationship with Rath at the beginning of her career, including his advice to her in the form of suggested reading lists, original poems, and typical aphorisms. Wild Gooseberries (1989) documents Layton's correspondence between 1939 and 1989 with Creeley, the founder and leading member of the Black Mountain Poets.
Layton has both delighted and exasperated critics and readers alike with his ecstatic literary style, candid social criticism, and flaunting sensuality. At times, Layton has been criticized for either being too prolific or indiscriminately publishing everything he has written, which has caused some critics to remark that his oeuvre in general is inconsistent. Most commentators, however, have recognized Layton's role in expanding the limits of Canadian literature, claiming that the spiritual energy and visionary force of his romantic ideals, along with his ironic point of view, has revived long-stagnant poetic conventions. Some critics have compared the content and style of Layton's poems to those of Romantic poets Whitman and Blake, particularly Layton's explorations of the individual's status in the contemporary world and of the relationship between the physical and the spiritual. Critics also have observed that Layton brought the Jewish-Canadian experience into global prominence, but because of his negative views on organized religion, he has antagonized some readers. In addition to aggressively courting controversy with his unconventional personality and often confrontational attitudes, Layton has also attracted considerable attention—both positive and negative—with his provocative use of sexual imagery and language. While many reviewers have acknowledged the liberating effects of this aspect of Layton's poetry—some have drawn comparisons to D. H. Lawrence's lyrical treatment of passion—others have debated the aesthetic and cultural merits of his contribution, particularly feminist scholars who have invariably deemed some of his writings defective, inferior, and second-rate. They are particularly indignant about Layton's erotica, castigating his explicit handling of human sexuality and deploring his treatment of women in general. Despite the occasional controversy, critics have generally acknowledged that Layton has changed Canadian letters.
Here and Now (poetry) 1945
Now Is the Place (poetry and short stories) 1948
The Black Huntsman (poetry) 1951
Love the Conqueror Worm [with Louis Dudek and Raymond Souster] (poetry) 1951
Cerberus (poetry) 1954
In the Midst of My Fever (poetry) 1954
The Long Pea-Shooter (poetry) 1954
The Blue Propeller (poetry) 1955
The Cold Green Element (poetry) 1955
The Bull Calf and Other Poems (poetry) 1956
The Improved Binoculars [introduction by William Carlos Williams] (poetry) 1956
Music on a Kazoo (poetry) 1956
A Laughter in the Mind (poetry) 1958
A Red Carpet for the Sun (poetry) 1959
The Swinging Flesh (poetry and short stories) 1961
Balls for a One-Armed Juggler (poetry) 1963
The Laughing Rooster (poetry) 1964
Collected Poems (poetry) 1965
Periods of the Moon (poetry) 1967
The Shattered Plinths (poetry) 1968
Nail Polish (poetry) 1971
Engagements: The Prose of Irving Layton (essays) 1972
Lovers and Lesser Men...
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SOURCE: Layton, Irving, and Kenneth Sherman. “An Interview with Irving Layton.” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 10 (spring 1978): 7-18.
[In the following interview, conducted on December 10, 1977, Layton discusses social and religious history and ideas; the state of poetry in Canada; and his public image.]
[Sherman]: Throughout much of English literature one notes a Christianizing of the Old Testament and its figures. Good examples of this are to be found in the medieval passion plays as well as in Eliot's The Waste Land. Would it be fair to say that in your recent Yeshua poems you are rewriting the New Testament in terms of the Old?
[Layton]: That's certainly a very good way of putting it, because they Christianize not only the figures in the Old Testament—they have Christianized my brother, Yeshua! It's a lie to say that Jesus was the first Christian to die on the cross; he was not a Christian, he was a Jew, and he was a Jew that the Romans thought was a rebel and a subversive and one who possibly was going to lead some kind of revolt against the Roman Emperium. So there you already have a falsification of a Jew. For that matter I would say that the disciples of Jesus have been also falsified to appear as Christians when to my reading they were Jews! It's important to remember the first 15 bishops in Jerusalem were Jews, regarded themselves as Jews, obeyed...
(The entire section is 6011 words.)
SOURCE: O'Rourke, David. “The Lion in Winters: Irving Layton at York.” Canadian Literature, no. 87 (winter 1980): 52-65.
[In the following essay, O'Rourke compares Layton's public image with a more complete portrait, commenting on Layton's role as a poet and teacher and providing extended excerpts from a number of Layton's March 1978 class lectures. In the class transcriptions, Layton gives autobiographical information, descriptions of some of his work, and responds to various questions from students.]
It is frequently pointed out with some degree of disparagement that a large number of Canadian poets are also university teachers. The people who are concerned with this phenomenon, most not employed by universities, argue that an academic appointment ranges in the vicinity of dangerous to insidious. They worry that the established Canadian poet will become “too soft.” They fear that this country's poetry will become “too academic.” They are of the opinion that the true poet ought to be “on the street” and “with the people.” Sitting in cafés, they lament their brothers and sisters with university chairs. The fact that their own poetry is often not that good seems inconsequential; that students may be considered “of the people”—irrelevant; that university employment does not preclude contact with “the street”—beside the point; and, finally, that established poets might rebel...
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SOURCE: Harding, Anthony John. “In Debate.” Canadian Literature, no. 98 (autumn 1983): 102-04.
[In the following review, Harding characterizes Layton's political viewpoints in Taking Sides as troublesome and bewildering, attributing the former to naiveté and the latter to poor editing.]
Taking Sides is both annoying and embarrassing. It is annoying because of the careless way in which it has been edited (of which more later); it is embarrassing because Layton too often—on the evidence of the writings here reprinted—wants to be at once the farsighted political commentator or student of political theory, and the irresponsible wearer of motley, the garlanded innocent, of whom everything can be forgiven. There is every reason, of course, for poets to be political theorists and even political activists. There is room in politics—indeed there is a crying need—for the joy, the anger, and the life-affirming zeal that Layton brings to every subject he writes on. The poet, at least a poet-prophet such as Layton, is more likely than the company director or university professor to speak for humane values against the conspiracy of rival imperialisms which daily threatens our lives with annihilation. When he enters the political arena, however, he must expect the same rules of debate to apply to the poet as to other men and women, and if anything, the poet's standard of conduct should be...
(The entire section is 1359 words.)
SOURCE: Wiens, Erwin. “From Apocalypse to Black Mountain: The Contexts of Layton's Early Criticism.” Canadian Poetry, no. 16 (spring-summer 1985): 1-20.
[In the following essay, Wiens comments on the importance of keeping Layton's critical statements framed by the literary, political, and social context in which they were made. Wiens highlights the people and movements surrounding Layton's comments, particularly those associated with the controversies between the literary magazines Preview and First Statement.]
There is some debate whether Layton has engaged in literary criticism at all. When George Woodcock compiled his anthology of criticism by poets, Poets and Critics (1974), Layton was not among the ten poet-critics, nor among Woodcock's list of the many good poet-critics he was obliged to omit from his anthology. In fact, Layton, along with Earle Birney, was specifically excluded. These two poets, said Woodcock, “have reacted in a romantic manner against criticism and raged against those who are mythically supposed to have been the killers of Keats and other frail versifiers.”1 Seymour Mayne, however, reminds us that Layton has maintained “a critical dialogue not only with his critics but with his fellow poets on the nature of poetry and the poet. … No other Canadian poet has taken on the task in such large measure, and no other poet has elicited such a wide...
(The entire section is 9965 words.)
SOURCE: Wiens, Erwin. “The Horses of Realism: The Layton-Pacey Correspondence.” Studies in Canadian Literature 10, nos. 1-2 (1985): 183-207.
[In the following essay, Wiens traces Layton's relationship with Canadian writer Desmond Pacey in their unpublished correspondence spanning nearly two decades. Wiens focuses on Pacey's criticism of and influence on Layton's poetics from the early 1950s to the mid-1970s.]
On November 3, 1954, Desmond Pacey addressed a letter to Contact Press, inviting the poets Louis Dudek, Raymond Souster and Irving Layton to submit their recent work for a review article on Canadian literature. Early in 1955 Pacey and Layton met in Montreal, and so began a long friendship and an invaluable correspondence, documenting the development of Canadian poetry and criticism after World War II, and the development of a major critic and a pre-eminent poet. The correspondence is also rich in personal drama, recording the triumphs and setbacks in the careers of both men, the tensions in their friendships, their often conflicting views of poetry, of Canadian poetry in particular, and of the role of the poet and the critic in contemporary society. There are discussions of literary figures past and present, heated arguments on current social and political developments, an exchange of bawdy jokes, some brutally frank criticisms of each other's work, and equally frank...
(The entire section is 9836 words.)
SOURCE: Smith, Patricia Keeney. Review of Irving Layton: A Portrait, by Elspeth Cameron, and Waiting for the Messiah, by Irving Layton. University of Toronto Quarterly 56, no. 3 (spring 1987): 467-70.
[In the following review, Smith contrasts Elspeth Cameron's biography of Layton with Waiting for the Messiah, Layton's memoir, highlighting the different accounts of the interplay between the man and his poetry.]
Having had one of the first words on Elspeth Cameron's biography of Irving Layton in the Canadian Forum of November 1985, I may here also claim the dubious distinction of having one of the last words on the question of that poet's suitability as a subject for biography or autobiography. It is now public knowledge that Layton's response to the Cameron biography [Irving Layton: A Portrait] is unrelentingly negative, damning it for factual error and rampant anti-Semitism. Having written what I believe to have been a rational and balanced review of that work, and having functioned as a conscientious critic of Layton's poetry for many years, I am now placed among the ranks of a blind literary establishment systematically determined to defame this artist. So saith Irving Layton.
The literary row, fought on public and private fronts around the Cameron book and to a lesser degree around Layton's first volume of memoirs, provides a singular opportunity to...
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SOURCE: Lewis, Joanne. “Irving's Women: A Feminist Critique of the Love Poems of Irving Layton.” Studies in Canadian Literature 13, no. 2 (1988): 142-56.
[In the following essay, Lewis examines the attitudes toward women in the themes, images, and literary strategies of Layton's love poetry, comparing the sexist, misogynistic, and anti-feminist qualities of his poems with similar opinions gleaned from his personal life.]
Brief to Irving
I open your latest book of eighty-two poems another blitzkreig and see you're taking up the cudgels against another wife: I wonder how she's taking it? I see. She's leaking headaches trembling in corners already and she's only had two years of you. The reason, perhaps, appears on page 75 you squirm over your neighbour's crotch …
After twenty years I am still angry I will say it for us all Faye, Aviva, Harriet, myself: We're not, Irving, merely strumpets for your pleasure; we're almost numerous enough your wives to unionize, vote you out if you think that makes poetry you've got another wife coming. …
—Boschka Layton, unpublished poem
For more than four decades, Irving Layton's poetry has dazzled, puzzled, astonished, and outraged its readers. Not content to let his work speak for itself. Layton has chosen the role of public poet, taking and making every opportunity to voice his opinion and hurl his...
(The entire section is 5414 words.)
SOURCE: Owens, Judith. “Love's Trials.” Canadian Literature, nos. 124-25 (spring-summer 1990): 369-73.
[In the following excerpt, Owens comments on the structure, imagery, language, and themes of Final Reckoning.]
Irving Layton's Final Reckoning: Poems 1982-1986 marks his 75th birthday and, as the occasion and the title might suggest, the volume asks to be read as a summation, a marshalling of some of Layton's characteristic concerns and themes. Layton remains, as he puts it in the Acknowledgement, an “unsparing critic of his society's cultural values,” sounding indictments—against complacency, self-deception, mediocrity—in voices which range from the wry to the peevish to the scornful to the reflective. He remains, too, the celebrant, rejoicing in passion and creativity, delighting in love. He contemplates the “comedy” of life, with its death masks, its “weavings of weddings and holocausts,” its forebodings of doomsday, striking, by turns, postures of defiance or detachment, even equanimity.
Although the volume shows no encompassing design or structure, the poems follow a careful ordering, forming groups and pairs of poems which comment on one another. The volume opens, for example, with “Dionysians in a Bad Time,” a poem tracing the decline of two writers, Strindberg and Kazantzakis, into guilt and angst and a Christianity which kills heart, spirit, and...
(The entire section is 1196 words.)
SOURCE: Bernstein, Michael André. “Usurpations: A Poetics of Catastrophe and the Language of Jewish History.” Triquarterly, no. 79 (fall 1990): 207-19.
[In the following essay, Bernstein analyzes similarities between the rhetoric of contemporary Israeli society and the themes of Fortunate Exile, highlighting the pessimistic relationship between post-1967 Jewish poetry and Judaic history.]
I've yoked together my large silence and my small outcry.
—Yehuda Amichai, And That Is Your Glory
Give all your nights to the study of Talmud
By day practice shooting from the hip
—Irving Layton (“Recipe for a Long and Happy Life”)
Initially, one of the most arresting features of many Orthodox settlements erected in the occupied West Bank since 1967 is their large percentage of North American and British-born members. Still more striking, though, is the fact that these late-coming pioneers, often fundamentalist in their religion and far-right in their politics, characteristically arrived in Israel only after, and in part as a response to, the spectacular dangers and victories of the Six-Day War. Yet when we hear their voices, New Jersey or Toronto intonations still unmistakable in-and-through the shared Biblical provenance of their affirmations, what emerges is a seamless tale of a...
(The entire section is 5269 words.)
SOURCE: Solecki, Sam. Review of Wild Gooseberries: The Selected Letters of Irving Layton, edited by Francis Mansbridge, University of Toronto Quarterly 60, no. 1 (fall 1990): 162-63.
[In the following review, Solecki recommends Wild Gooseberries for its insights on twentieth-century Canadian letters and culture as well as its glimpses into Layton's psyche.]
Since Irving Layton is one of the most important Canadian poets (Al Purdy is his only peer), nothing that he writes can be without some interest for us, even if that interest is sometimes primarily historical. Wild Gooseberries: The Selected Letters of Irving Layton is a case in point. While few would claim on the basis of these selected letters that Layton is among the great letter writers, there is little doubt that the volume is among the indispensable books we have about Canadian writing and culture of the past half-century (the first letter is dated 1939, the last 1989).
Like Earle Birney's memoir, The Cow Jumped over the Moon, the letters chronicle the making of modern poetry in Canada. For any who still believe the old legend that modernism arrived with W. W. E. Ross, F. R. Scott, and A. J. M. Smith, Layton's letters offer a challenging reminder that the battle for modernism was still being fought in the 1940s and 1950s. Of particular interest here are the diplomatic—in several senses of the...
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SOURCE: Irmscher, Christoph. “Building Lives.” Canadian Literature, no. 134 (autumn 1992): 138-40.
[In the following review, Irmscher comments on two different biographies of William Carlos Williams before highlighting the contents of Irving Layton and Robert Creeley: The Complete Correspondence, a volume Irmscher believes holds more value for biographers than literary theorists.]
Paul Mariani's biography of Williams [William Carlos Williams: A New World Naked] first came out in 1981 and was soon recognized as a landmark in literary biography. This Norton paperback edition is, alas, unrevised, so that the (admittedly few) factual errors of the first edition remain. Nevertheless, it provides a good opportunity to see how Mariani's biographical technique—complete empathy with the subject—has stood the test of time. A decade on, Mariani's massive work, in his own proud words the document of a “ten-year obsession with another man's life,” still reads well, although some of the passages where the author's desire to merge with his subject leads to linguistic mimicry (“Art was no effete aesthetic game, damn it …,” “Hell, what could the English show the Americans now?”), seem less palatable today. Mariani himself sensed the potential embarrassment of this approach when he conceded in the book's preface that in his search for “the inner life of Williams himself” he might...
(The entire section is 1545 words.)
SOURCE: Trehearne, Brian. “A Partial Correspondence.” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 47 (fall 1992): 82-89.
[In the following review, Trehearne assesses the literary and biographical significance of Irving Layton and Robert Creeley: The Complete Correspondence, 1953-1978, in light of American poet Creeley's influence on Layton's artistic development.]
The noteworthy documentary projects of Canadian literary scholars are too often parcelled out and undermined by the limited resources of the nation's academic publishers. A heartening exception is the exhaustively compiled and nearly complete works of A. M. Klein emerging from the University of Toronto Press during the past decade. A multivolume, complete collection of the letters of Irving Layton is similarly among the desiderata of our period in literary-critical history, but the letters are necessarily made public instead in a handful of independently published volumes such as Wild Gooseberries: The Selected Letters of Irving Layton (1989) and the present item of review, Irving Layton and Robert Creeley: The Complete Correspondence, 1953-1978. The volume's interest and usefulness are unfortunately limited by the editors' cost-enforced decision to select from Layton's innumerable correspondents of the 1950s another “great man”; their prudent choice of an American poet doubles the volume's potential market. The better reason...
(The entire section is 2897 words.)
SOURCE: Trehearne, Brian. “‘Scanned and Scorned’: Freedom and Fame in Layton.” In Inside the Poem: Essays and Poems in Honour of Donald Stephens, edited by W. H. New, pp. 139-50. Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1992.
[In the following essay, Trehearne outlines the professional significance of “Whatever Else Poetry Is Freedom” in Layton's career, highlighting the strategies and motives underlying his public pursuit of fame.]
Irving Layton's “Whatever Else Poetry Is Freedom” has received minimal explication in the three-and-a-half decades since its first appearance in The Canadian Forum, despite Layton's conviction that it “expresses better than any other poem of [his], what [his] whole life has been about” (Thomas, 68). Such a signature deserves thorough and various critical response, but the poem's riddling nature—freedom from what?—and deliberate refusal of rationality and structural unity have stymied Layton's readers, who offer only brief commentaries on the poem's obvious dialectics of creativity and mortality. “Whatever Else Poetry Is Freedom” begs extra-textual contexts in its deliberate echoes of other Layton masterpieces, in its reliance on symbolism established in other poems to create present meanings, in its cryptic allusions to Canute and Lear and The Taming of the Shrew, and in its Heracliteanism. A perhaps less obvious context of the poem,...
(The entire section is 6303 words.)
SOURCE: Solecki, Sam. “D. H. Lawrence, Irving Layton, and Al Purdy: In the Canadian Grain.” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 49 (summer 1993) 93-110.
[In the following essay, Solecki compares the works of D. H. Lawrence to the works of Layton and poet Al Purdy in the context of Canadian literature.]
We own the country we grow up in, or we are aliens and invaders.
La vrai terre natale est celle où on a eu sa première émotion forte.
—Remy de Gourmont
This essay has two concerns whose connection will become apparent only gradually: D. H. Lawrence’s influence on Irving Layton and Al Purdy, and the different conceptions or visions of a national literature and identity—what Dennis Lee calls an “imaginative patrimony” (390)—implicit in the bodies of work of the two Canadians. Although I will refer throughout to Lawrence’s “influence,” the word I really want and can’t find would indicate something more than affinity or resemblance and less than influence. Use suggests itself but carries too strong an overtone of a willed or self-conscious attitude on the part of the user. Influence is therefore almost inevitable,...
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SOURCE: Ravvin, Norman. “Poet & Polis.” Canadian Literature, nos. 138-39 (fall-winter 1993): 150-51.
[In the following review, Ravvin questions why Dance with Desire, a collection with almost the same contents as a volume released earlier, was published as a separate work. Ravvin also challenges the classification of Layton's poems as love poetry, believing the hostile elements in the poetry to push even the widest boundaries of the genre.]
Irving Layton's early volumes—angry, incendiary books all—could not have prepared us for the tendency in recent years to collect Layton as a love poet. It is almost as if there is a movement afoot to replace our image of the man as purveyor of Nietzschean gestures condemning cultural hypocrisy and anti-semitic pretension, with the image of the poet aging randily, an ever-fixated sexual adventurer. The latter persona is played to the hilt in Dance with Desire: Selected Love Poems. The collection is prefaced with one of Layton's provocative forewords—in this case a celebration of his Grade Six teacher, Miss Benjamin, who is said to have “awakened” his “erotic impulses.” The collection is also handsomely illustrated with Richard Gorman's drawings of bodies at love.
Before offering a response to the poetry itself, I must say that in trying to decide how this collection fits into Layton's impressive oeuvre, I discovered...
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SOURCE: Layton, David. “Irving Layton, Leonard Cohen, and Other Recurring Nightmares.” Saturday Night 111, no. 2 (March 1996): 32-43.
[In the following essay, Layton—the son of Irving Layton—discusses his relationship with his father and the Layton family's relationship with poet Leonard Cohen.]
There are two observations I need to make about the week I spent in LA: first, it rained every day I was there, and second, it was the Tibetan New Year. Neither event was related to the other, except that together they conspired to prevent me from achieving the purpose of my visit—interviewing my godfather, the poet/songwriter Leonard Cohen. I had some notion of doing an article on the performer’s capacity for personal relationships, and I think Leonard knew I also wanted him to talk about my father, though I’d written him only that I wanted him to talk about himself.
“He is up in the mountain,” was how my mother put it. I was staying at her house in West Hollywood. The mountain in question was Mount Baldy, one of the many snow-capped peaks that glitter in the California sun. I tried to locate it on a map, tracing the rumpled geographical folds northward towards Washington State and British Columbia. That’s where I always imagine the Rocky Mountains to be, rising inland of the Pacific rainforest. Despite my many visits I always forget that pristine mountains hover within...
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SOURCE: Flynn, Kevin. “Balanced on Wooden Stilts and Dancing: What Irving Layton Taught Me about Leonard Cohen.” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 69 (winter 1999): 9-11.
[In the following essay, Flynn recounts Layton's presence at a dinner party they both attended.]
“Do you know what the problem with Leonard Cohen is?”
I'd heard this question before, usually as the preface to some ill-conceived rant on Cohen's sexism, or his Buddhism, or (to coin a phrase) his gravelly-voice-ism. On most occasions, the question would elicit little more from me than a roll of the eyes and an uninterested “No. What?” as I braced myself for the Cohen bashing that was sure to follow. But on this occasion I leaned forward to pay careful attention, because the person asking the question was Irving Layton. And he seemed to have something to say.
We were gathered, a handful of us, at the Montreal home of Brian Trehearne, a professor of English at McGill University and the host of that Saturday night's small dinner party, to which a number of his graduate students had been invited but at which Layton was, to say the least, the main attraction. I had arrived a little late and was surprised to find that something had cast a pall over the room. There were no smiles, none of the nervous laughter that one might expect from a group of CanLit graduate students in the presence of an icon in...
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SOURCE: Smith, Rowland. “Now Are the Winged Insects Better Off: Nature, Imagery, and Reflection in Archibald Lampman and Irving Layton.” World Literature Today 73, no. 2 (spring 1999): 283-88.
[In the following essay, Smith argues that a culturally derived “poetic instinct” bridges the work of Layton and fellow Canadian poet Archibald Lampman.]
At first glance, Archibald Lampman and Irving Layton would appear to share little except nationality. The differences in the moods and tones of their poetry are so pronounced that they could be seen to represent, irreconcilably, the milieus of their respective ages: the Confederation poet dreaming away in a rhapsodic communion with the larger-than-life Canada of the late nineteenth century, and the egotistical Montreal slum child celebrating his own vitality in opposition to the stifling conformity and materialism of mid-twentieth-century mass culture. And there would be some truth in this view.
My aim in this essay is, nevertheless, to show that Lampman and Layton share a poetic instinct. Layton's trait of developing a closely focused image or series of images into a sustained reflection (on imagination, or endurance, or on human relation to the numinous) is remarkably similar to the typically “Canadian” habit of the Confederation poets of using the sensuous perception of a natural scene to launch into a discussion with...
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Baker, Howard. “Jewish Themes in the Works of Irving Layton.” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 10 (spring 1978): 43-54.
Baker explicates Jewish themes within Layton's poetry, noting that Layton is against organized religion in general and “believes the most meaningful aspect of Jewish experience is the secular one.”
Johnson, Brian D. “A Bull in the Literary China Shop.” Maclean's 98, no. 43 (28 October 1995): 64.
Johnson compares Elspeth Cameron’s biography, Irving Layton: A Portrait, with Layton’s own memoir, Waiting for the Messiah.
Kertes, Joseph. “‘Brief Are the Days of Beauty’: The Wisdom of Irving Layton's ‘The Gucci Bag.’” Canadian Literature, no. 105 (summer 1985): 32-42.
Kertes delineates Layton's vision of the real, the imagined, and the human condition in The Gucci Bag, drawing frequent comparisons to William Butler Yeats's insights on the same phenomena.
Martin, Sandra. “Irving Layton: Bull, Boxer, and Poet.” Quill & Quire 59, no. 7 (July 1993): 46.
Martin examines two collections of Layton’s poetry—Fornalutx and Dance with Desire—and a collection of reminiscences about the poet titled Raging Like a Fire: A Celebration of Irving Layton.
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