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February
In 1982, the oil rig Ocean Ranger sank off the coast of Newfoundland during a Valentine's night storm. In the early hours of the next morning, all 84 men aboard died. Helen O'Mara is one of those left behind when her husband, Cal, drowns. Her story starts years after the Ranger disaster, but she is compelled to travel back to the 'February' that persists in her mind, and to that moment in 1982 when, expecting a fourth child, she received the call informing her that Cal was lost at sea. A quarter of a century on, late one winter's night, Helen is woken by another phone call. It is her wayward son John, in another time zone, on his way home. He has made a girl pregnant and he needs his mother to decide what he should do. As John grapples with what it might mean to be a father, Helen realises that she must shake off her decades of mourning in order to help.
The Selected Short Fiction of Lisa Moore
Lisa Moore's stories are bright, emotionally engaging, tangible. She marks out the precious moments of her characters' lives against deceptively commonplace backdrops — a St. John's hospital cafeteria lit only by the lights in the snack machines; a half-built house "like a rib cage around a lungful of sky" -- and the results linger long in the memory. The Selected Short Fiction of Lisa Moore shows us that love, alongside desire, can sometimes come as a surprise, sometimes an ambush. She splices moments and images together so adroitly, so vividly, you'll swear you've lived them yourself. This new volume, bringing together Lisa Moore’s first two books of stories, Open and Degrees of Nakedness, is the very best way to encounter one of the finest short-story writers in the country. This edition features a brilliant new introduction by Jane Urquhart on the importance of Moore’s work.
Sister Arts
How eighteenth-century artists created works that expressed their desire for other women.
Degrees of Nakedness
The stories of Lisa Moore are bright, tangible, and emotionally engaging. Fire moves through urban St. John's like a human emotion, or the human emotions of her stories move like fire through St. John's. This is writing that is alive with images and darkness and light, with the hard delicate core of the human psyche.
Caught
Slaney lay there, flat on his back, chest hammering, looking at the stars. It was as far as he had been from the Springfield penitentiary since the doors of that institution admitted him four years before. It was not far enough. He heaved himself off the ground and started running. Itâe(tm)s June 1978 and David Slaney can be sure of only one thing. He canâe(tm)t get caught. Not this time. Heâe(tm)s escaped from prison, needs to make good on the drug heist that went wrong, win back the woman he loves and buy himself a new life. First, though, he must travel across a vast country of watchful eyes, booby traps and friends who could be foes âe" he canâe(tm)t trust anyone, it turns out. And then on to Columbia, where the real test begins. With bravado and the exuberant folly of youth, Slaney embarks on a road trip that will take him from the seedy motels of Nova Scotia to a beach party in Columbia, navigating bad weather and a ferocious storm at sea, undercover cops and gun-toting drug barons. In elegant, forensic prose and a fierce, dry humour, Lisa Moore tightens the net around Slaney in a suspenseful and compulsive adventure story.
This Is How We Love
From the celebrated author of February and Caught comes an exhilarating new novel that asks: What makes a family? How does it shape us? And can we ever really choose who we love? As the snowstorm of the century rages toward Newfoundland, twenty-one-year-old Xavier is beaten and stabbed in a vicious attack. His mother, Jules, must fight her way through the shuttered streets of St. John's to reach the hospital where Xavier lies unconscious. When a video of the attack surfaces, Jules struggles to make sense of what she sees in the footage -- and of what she can't quite make out. While Xavier's story unfolds, so, too, do the stories that brought him there. Here, across families and generations, are stories of mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers; of children cared for, neglected, lost, and re-found; of selfless generosity and reluctant debt. Above all, Moore, in the inimitable largesse of her art, paints a shimmering portrait of the sacrifice, pain, and wild joy of loving. A tour de force of storytelling and craft, This is How We Love brings us a cast of characters so rich and true they could only have been written by Lisa Moore.
Open
National best seller and a Giller prize finalist. Short Stories.
Dangerous Intimacies
Examines accounts of sapphic relations in eighteenth-century and early nineteenth-century texts, both to show how such stories were used to help consolidate more bourgeois values, and to widen our idea of what kinds of relationships existed between women
Dangerous Intimacies
Examines accounts of sapphic relations in eighteenth-century and early nineteenth-century texts, both to show how such stories were used to help consolidate more bourgeois values, and to widen our idea of what kinds of relationships existed between women
Open
Lisa Moore's "Open" makes you believe three things unequivocally: that St. John's is the centre of the universe, that these stories are about absolutely everything, that the only certainty in life comes from the accumulation of moments which refuse to be contained. Love, mistakes, loss - the fear of all of these, the joy of all of these. The interconnectedness of a bus ride in Nepal and a wedding on the shore of Quidi Vidi Lake; of the tension between a husband and wife when their infant cries before dawn (who will go to him?) and the husband's memory of an early, piercing love affair; of two friends, one who suffers early in life and the other midway through.In "Open," Lisa Moore splices moments and images together so adroitly, so vividly, you'll swear you've lived them yourself. That there is a writer like Lisa Moore threading a live wire through everything she sees, showing it to us, warming us with it. These stories are a gathering in. An offering. They ache and bristle. They are shared riches. Open.
