of a public unaccustomed to Whitmanesque gestures and outlandish posturings. With flowing hair, Layton shouted and raved from the heights, addressing crucial subjects. “Poised on a rope stretched tautly between sex and death,” the poet, Layton affirmed, can find salvation only in sexual love, a message that strongly appealed to the young Cohen. Layton was responsible for strong-arming Cohen into the wonderful, boisterous, in-your-face world of serious poetry, where dedication to the art was all, and all of you had to be put into the work. The quest for bold experiences was the poet’s finest teacher, Layton preached, and in Cohen he had a willing disciple.
No gathering Layton and Cohen attended was more important than the Canadian Writers’ Conference held from July 28–31, 1955, at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario. Organized by F.R. Scott, and supported by the Rockefeller Foundation, the first major gathering of Canadian writers included the established: A.J.M. Smith, Morley Callaghan, Dorothy Livesay, Desmond Pacey, Louis Dudek, Ralph Gustafson, James Reaney, John Sutherland, Earle Birney, Malcolm Ross, and Scott; and the new: Al Purdy, Jay Macpherson, Eli Mandel,Phyllis Webb, and Miriam Waddington. According to Doug Jones, Layton arrived in staid Kingston “in a car full of women. I guess it was probably Cohen and various friends, but it was like the sultan coming with his harem.”
Cohen took his guitar, read in the impromptu poetry sessions and listened to the arguments between the writers, who claimed that the mass media were doing little to promote their work, and the mass media, who claimed that the writers were getting what they deserved, especially the poets whose work was intentionally obscure. Layton argued that poets wrote for the public, not for other poets. The poet was part of the proletariat, not the elite. Layton constantly battled journalists and others at the conference in his conviction that the poet was essential for society and that society had a duty to support its writers through foundations or grants. It resulted in a set of resolutions to formalize the study of Canadian literature, recognizing the need to provide a more prominent place for Canadian writing in schools and libraries.
Attending the Kingston Conference in the summer of 1955 was a heady experience for Cohen. He met the major poets and heard new voices. His career was shaped in response to many of the issues that were discussed and the decisions that were made through the workshops, meetings, and resolutions. A new range of publications soon appeared:
Canadian Literature, Prism
, the McGill Poetry series and the New Canadian Library.
————
COHEN GRADUATED from McGill in October 1955, one of only five arts students to receive B.A. degrees. He had established himself as a literary figure and campus voice, winning the Chester MacNaughton Prize for Creative Writing for his series “Thoughts of a Landsman,” which was made up of four poems, three of which would later appear in his first book. He also won the Peterson Memorial Prize in literature, publicly confirming his talent and renewing his determination to pursue a creative life. The caption under his 1955 McGill Yearbook picture reads
“You have discovered of course only the ship of fools is making the voyage this year
…”
“I yearned to live a semi-bohemian lifestyle,” Cohen said of his McGill years, “an unstructured life; but a
consecrated
one; some kind of calling.” In the fall of 1953, at the beginning of his third year at McGill, Cohen and Mort Rosengarten had taken several rooms on Stanley Street in a rooming house. They had hoped to pursue a modestly bohemian life and to break free of the confines of Westmount. It was a decision that upset Cohen’s mother and angered his uncles. His father had lived with his parents until the day of his marriage at age thirty-nine. Cohen’s move was seen as a break with tradition and an abandonment of his
No gathering Layton and Cohen attended was more important than the Canadian Writers’ Conference held from July 28–31, 1955, at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario. Organized by F.R. Scott, and supported by the Rockefeller Foundation, the first major gathering of Canadian writers included the established: A.J.M. Smith, Morley Callaghan, Dorothy Livesay, Desmond Pacey, Louis Dudek, Ralph Gustafson, James Reaney, John Sutherland, Earle Birney, Malcolm Ross, and Scott; and the new: Al Purdy, Jay Macpherson, Eli Mandel,Phyllis Webb, and Miriam Waddington. According to Doug Jones, Layton arrived in staid Kingston “in a car full of women. I guess it was probably Cohen and various friends, but it was like the sultan coming with his harem.”
Cohen took his guitar, read in the impromptu poetry sessions and listened to the arguments between the writers, who claimed that the mass media were doing little to promote their work, and the mass media, who claimed that the writers were getting what they deserved, especially the poets whose work was intentionally obscure. Layton argued that poets wrote for the public, not for other poets. The poet was part of the proletariat, not the elite. Layton constantly battled journalists and others at the conference in his conviction that the poet was essential for society and that society had a duty to support its writers through foundations or grants. It resulted in a set of resolutions to formalize the study of Canadian literature, recognizing the need to provide a more prominent place for Canadian writing in schools and libraries.
Attending the Kingston Conference in the summer of 1955 was a heady experience for Cohen. He met the major poets and heard new voices. His career was shaped in response to many of the issues that were discussed and the decisions that were made through the workshops, meetings, and resolutions. A new range of publications soon appeared:
Canadian Literature, Prism
, the McGill Poetry series and the New Canadian Library.
————
COHEN GRADUATED from McGill in October 1955, one of only five arts students to receive B.A. degrees. He had established himself as a literary figure and campus voice, winning the Chester MacNaughton Prize for Creative Writing for his series “Thoughts of a Landsman,” which was made up of four poems, three of which would later appear in his first book. He also won the Peterson Memorial Prize in literature, publicly confirming his talent and renewing his determination to pursue a creative life. The caption under his 1955 McGill Yearbook picture reads
“You have discovered of course only the ship of fools is making the voyage this year
…”
“I yearned to live a semi-bohemian lifestyle,” Cohen said of his McGill years, “an unstructured life; but a
consecrated
one; some kind of calling.” In the fall of 1953, at the beginning of his third year at McGill, Cohen and Mort Rosengarten had taken several rooms on Stanley Street in a rooming house. They had hoped to pursue a modestly bohemian life and to break free of the confines of Westmount. It was a decision that upset Cohen’s mother and angered his uncles. His father had lived with his parents until the day of his marriage at age thirty-nine. Cohen’s move was seen as a break with tradition and an abandonment of his