A Fine Institution

The Toronto Women's Bookstore is a fine institution so I dutifully went along to its fundraiser at Central Bar last night. I was puzzled by the "what's he doing here" looks from the young women gathered at the back of the room and the stares of a man in a silly pork pie hat, but no matter since even in a good jacket and spiffy tie I still manage to look disreputable. However, what did matter was the quality of the readings. To say they were uneven is being charitable. The worst was no more than "adolescent outpouring," to use Diana Athill's sharp phrase about an early version of a Jean Rhys novel. The best was a spoken word poet with great language and compelling intensity who reminded me of the Beats.

If there's another funder for the bookstore I'll go to that too. I can dismiss the suspicious looks, but poor writing is another matter altogether. So please, Toronto Women's Bookstore, a little quality control if there's a next time.