House of Anansi Press

Here is inventive new poetry from one of our most original and admired poets: Erin Moure, two-time winner of the Governor General's Literary Award for Poetry, winner of the Pat Lowther Memorial Award, and a finalist for the prestigious Griffin Poetry Prize.

Moure's brilliant collection explores the idea that the act of reading contains all the experiences of the body itself: love, splendour, travel, doubling, loss. The "resplandor" of the title refers to the radiance of the body when the language of the book flows into ears and eyes. In unexpected ways -- through impossible translation, anachronistic journeys, and a fictional mystery that involves a search for a translator who exists only in the future beyond the book itself - O Resplandor confounds notions of authorship and translation, all while conveying the clamour over love and loss. Richly challenging and charged with Erin Moure's distinctive energy, O Resplandor is a work about the powerful light contained in the human body, in translation, and in poetry - even as it shows how these are all one and the same in the end: inventions.

The definitive guide to fighting coronaviruses, colds, flus, pandemics, and deadly diseases, from one of North America’s leading public health authorities, now updated with a new introduction on protecting yourself and others from COVID-19.

Dr. Bonnie Henry, a leading epidemiologist (microbe hunter) and public health doctor at the forefront of the fight against the worldwide COVID-19 coronavirus outbreak, has spent the better part of the last three decades chasing bugs all over the world — from Ebola in Uganda to polio in Pakistan, SARS in Toronto, and the H1N1 influenza outbreak across North America. Now she offers three simple rules to live by: wash your hands, cover your mouth when you cough, and stay at home when you have a fever.

From viruses to bacteria to parasites and fungi, Dr. Henry takes us on a tour through the halls of Microbes Inc., providing up-to-date and accurate information on everything from the bugs we breathe, to the bugs we eat and drink, the bugs in our backyard, and beyond. Urgent and informative, Soap and Water & Common Sense is the definitive guide to staying healthy in a germ-filled world.

Now available in paperback, an insightful exploration and moving meditation on identity, art, and belonging from one of the most celebrated writers of the last decade.
What happens when we begin to consider stories at the margins, when we grant them centrality? How does that complicate our certainties about who we are, as individuals, as nations, as human beings? Through the lens of visual art, literature, film, and the author’s lived experience, Out of the Sun examines Black histories in art, offering new perspectives to challenge us.
In this groundbreaking, reflective, and erudite book, two-time Scotiabank Giller Prize winner and internationally bestselling author Esi Edugyan illuminates myriad varieties of Black experience in global culture and history. Edugyan combines storytelling with analyses of contemporary events and her own personal story in this dazzling first major work of non-fiction.

The Polymers is a bold new work from one of our most ambitious poetic minds. Structured as an imaginary science project, the varied pieces in this collection investigate the intersection of poetry and chemicals, specifically plastics, attempting to understand their essential role in culture. Through various procedures, constraints, and formal mutations, the poems express the repeating structures fundamental to plastic molecules as they appear in cultural and linguistic behaviours such as arguments, anxieties, and trends.

A wildly experimental and chemically reactive work, The Polymers thrills and provokes. You’ll never look at the world of a poem — or the world itself — in the same way again.

Winner of the Griffin Poetry Prize and shortlisted for the Trillium Book Award

Marooned in the shiftless, unnamed space between a map of the world and a world of false maps, the poems in Methodist Hatchet cling to what’s necessary from each, while attempting to sing their own bewilderment. Carolinian forest echoes back as construction cranes in an urban skyline. Second Life returns as wildlife, as childhood. Even the poem itself -- the idea of a poem -- as a unit of understanding is shadowed by a great unknowing.

Fearless in its language, its trajectories and frames of reference, Methodist Hatchet gazes upon the objects of its attention until they rattle and exude their auras of strangeness. It is this strangeness, this mysterious stillness, that is the big heart of Ken Babstock’s playful, fierce, intelligent book.

From award-winning playwright and filmmaker Jordan Tannahill comes a masterful and moving novel in the tradition of Ben Lerner’s Leaving the Atocha Station and Sheila Heti’s How Should a Person Be.

At 11:04 a.m. on January 21st, 2017, Jordan opens the door to his mother’s bedroom. As his eyes adjust to the half-light, he finds her lying in bed, eyes closed and mouth agape. In that instant he cannot tell whether she is asleep or dead. The sight of his mother's body, caught between these two possibilities, causes Jordan to plunge headlong into the uncertain depths of consciousness itself.

From androids to cannibals to sex clubs, an unforgettable personal odyssey emerges, populated by a cast of sublime outsiders in search for the ever-elusive nature of self. Part ontological thriller, part millennial saga, Liminal is a riotous and moving portrait of a young man in volatile times, a generation caught in suspended animation, and a son’s enduring love for his mother.

Shortlisted for the Kobzar Literary Award.

The Unmemntioable joins letters that should not be joined. There is, in this word, an act of force. Of devastation. The unmentionable is love, of course. But in Moure's poems, love is bound to a duty: to comprehend what it was that the immigrants would not speak of. Now they are dead; their children and grandchildren know but an anecdotal pastiche of Ukrainian history. On Saskatoon Mountain in Alberta where they settled, only the chatter of the leaves remains of their presence. What was not spoken is sealed over, unmemntioable. There is no one left to contact in the Old Country. Can the unmemntioable retain its silence, yet be eased into words? Can experience still be spoken?