ing. Bukowski’s reality is fully at odds
with the simple, uncomplicated life of
economic and, social security Proulx’
characters experience. Proulx’ charac-
ters’ lives could be more complicated,
but the reader is never shown that, nor
are they led to believe that may be a
possibility. But really, how could you
be a good writer and do something like
that to your audience. Imagine leaving

 

the most interesting parts out of a

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
    
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
   

story...call it what you want, but there's
a nasty name for that.

Protecting the reader from any
potential ugliness does them a disserv-
ice. A writer cannot indulge in self-
censorship, telling themselves “That
may offend someone; I must appeal to
the widest range of people possible.”

Bukowski’s characters are free to
behave like the rabble they are. He
doesn't concern himself with predict-
ing how his words might effect some-
one. He tells a sort of blind truth—
truth no matter the
consequences. The only
controlling mechanism
his characters bow to
is the unpredictabili-
ty (and potentially
violent behaviour)
of other people.

But Proulx’ charac-
ters are never allowed
to fall to that level of
immoral behaviour— Se
almost as though mean, ugly
things don't exist. They don't hurt
others any way besides a bruised feel-
ing or two—and that is accomplished
nly because of their own ineptness or
crippled emotional development. Most
f her characters are semi-disinterested
bservers of their lives. Which leaves
he reader feeling semi-disinterested,
fter all if the character doesn't care
bout their own life, why should we?
hich would be okay if twisted emo-
ional developmenc was the point of

  
   
  
 
  
 

 
 
  
  
   

the story, but nowhere
does she give evidence
of that being her
purpose. It seems

like emotional devel-
opment is what
Proulx sacrifices in
the short story format.
Her novels better devel-
op characters, but it’s just as
important in a short story.
Bukowski’s characters are seen doing
more, occasionally undergoing that
emotionally satisfying act, the catharsis.
Proulx’ characters resist that, only
changing under the direction of some-

‘one else. Similarly, Bukowski’s charac-

ters’ survival depends on their relation-
ships with others. They cannot take
care of themselves, and so congregate
with others that can support them—
whether that support will stabilize or
corrupt is never really certain.

What is certain is that other people
do not control, merely influence,
the characters’ actions.
That's the disparity,
Proulx’ characters
behave inertly,

Bukowski’s are the
“unbalanced force,”
acting upon their
own lives.

Ultimately individ-
uals are shaped more
by other people than by
the culture they exist in. It is

interaction with others that deter-
mines the worth of a person, and the
worth of these characters. When plot
and character development is sacrificed
to description and ideas about political
setting and dogma (as Proulx does in
Aurora Montrealis, albeit subtly) the read-
er is left with nothing but a mild dose
of disappointment.

Bukowski wrote with spite about his
culture, from the fringes where he
appeared (to people who didn’t know

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 

him) to live rather hedo-
nistically. Both these
writers are about the
moment, existential
and immediate.
Bukowski is crude and
vulgar, Proulx is deli-
cate and polite.
Perhaps that is the real
distinction. That effervescent
politeness that seems to make
Canadians so recognizable, where an
American's hallmark is his rudeness.
Proulx seems afraid that her stories
might actually have an effect on peo-
ple, and so mumbles, and mutters, and
refuses to speak clearly. That is too
bad, because the rest of Canada needs
to know what it is about Quebec that
makes it so distinct, what makes it
important—it could be its people;
however I wish Aurora Montrealis
could have made me feel certain that
was the case. Bukowski doesn’t pause
over polite or delicate things, that’s
why I know precisely why his stories
are so important. He tells the reader
the importance of individuality, of
freedom, and of independence, in a
clear voice that refuses to be misunder-
stood.

There jis a horrible clarity that devel-
ops when someone knows what they
want to say. Perhaps it comes from a
belief that one’s convictions are true,
but it sure as shootin’ is better than
fumbling for the right words when
you've no idea what your opinion is, let
alone what you need to say.

Granville Books (850 Granville Street) has
the most comprehensive selection of Bukowski
he’s bundled up with the ‘beat’ section just left
and down the left side of the front desk (asgum-
ing you just walked in).

..and profit August 1998