Introduction

Jon Paul Fiorentino

I am writing this introduction in the Matrix office at Concordia University. It's Rob’s office and he was kind enough to share it with me for the time I was running the magazine with him. As one might imagine, countless books are stacked up everywhere, representing Rob’s varied interests: the American Civil War, Postmodern Fiction, Canadian Small Press, Modernist Poetry, and so on. Whenever I was pissed off or depressed, I would retreat to Rob’s office and get lost in some book: the poetry of Wallace Stevens, Allen Ginsberg or Stevie Smith, a novella by Will Self, a book of early Canadian criticism, the letters of Al Purdy, so many possibilities. It took me forever to change the voice mail. It was just so comforting to hear his voice. I still automatically dial his phone number when I don’t know the answer to something.

It has been a difficult time for those involved in the magazine. All of us loved Rob as a friend, editor, and as an author. Thankfully, Rob’s books are filled with answers. It feels right to include this excerpt from a speech I delivered at the Quebec Writers’ Federation Awards gala earlier this winter.

Robert Allen died in Fall of 2006 at the age of sixty. The last three weeks of his life were spent in the Eastern Townships with family and friends, sharing stories.

He was the author of nine collections of poetry, three novels, and one collection of short fiction. His most recent book was the brilliant long poem, The Encantadas, published just this spring. Without a doubt, The Encantadas is one of the best Canadian poetry books ever published. Rob was one of Canada’s best writers. His work was a rigorous negotiation of tradition and experiment. He wasn’t a household name but I know that his work will only increase in profile and importance. I have faith that Canadian literature has the ability to catch up to Rob and his work. Rob was not particularly interested in social status or award culture. Instead he delighted in the numerous achievements of his students and protégés.

The number of writers who have been influenced by Rob is astonishing. Rob taught emerging writers to use their curiosity, irreverence, and defiance to their advantage and to follow their own literary interests without apology. And most unique, he always treated his students and protégés as fellow writers. If you were one of Rob Allen’s writers, you were driven to make him proud and prove him right.

As a friend, Rob was always patient, thoughtful, and generous. He loved to share a bottle of good scotch, or bad scotch, a cigarette, a story, a road trip. He would always provide counsel. His wisdom was an invaluable gift to those who loved him. On a personal note, throughout the seven years I knew Rob, he never stopped helping me and never stopped laughing with me. He showed his faith in me by letting me help him run Matrix and giving me the opportunity to edit books and work with authors. Rob helped me become a better writer and a better person. I will always be grateful for his friendship and I miss him more than I can express.

I am comforted by the company of his family, friends and colleagues. Everyone who knew him has a great Rob Allen story. This is the mark of a great and influential person. Whether it’s Steve Luxton cracking us all up with tales of high school adventures with Rob, or Vivienne Allen sharing early film of a young Rob taking his first steps, or Anne Stone offering up memories from their long and loving relationship, or David McGimpsey recalling Rob’s ability to be a teacher and a colleague at same time, or Jason Camlot revealing the shocking truths of Rob-as-roommate, these memories help me press on.

You will find in this issue of Matrix, a variety of tributes. Some texts are elegiac, others are indicative of work Rob was working on with an author or simply would have loved. In addition, there are some never-before published poems by Rob. I can promise you that Rob has many surprises in store for us in the years to come.

To this day, I’m not sure why Rob trusted me with his magazine, but I am eternally grateful for his patience, guidance and friendship. Everyone involved in this magazine loved Robert Allen and we will proceed in the spirit of Rob’s eclecticism and curiosity. When we had to stop visiting Rob at his Ayer’s Cliff cabin, and head up the highway to the palliative care home in Sherbrooke, Anne Stone reassured me that for Rob, home was where his friends were, sharing stories with him. And so, as I look around our Matrix office and see all of Rob’s treasured stories and all of the books his students and friends have published, and, as I look at the texts that make up this very special issue, it feels most appropriate to say: Welcome to the home of Robert Allen.