My wife recently complained that Canadian Literature has really become like the Emperor’s New Clothes — we expect a book to be brilliant and then overlook the fact that many of these novels fail to tell a story at all. In contemporary literature, it appears fashionable to completely disregard the plot; authors seem caught up in a play of words that present a series of images which us readers are then expected to string together. These authors are more tricksters than guides. We’re expected to scratch our heads at the story and simply applaud the author’s erudite phrases; we’re expected to lead ourselves down the garden path.
Where is the Robertson Davies or Mordecai Richler of today?
Well, for the record, here are my Top 5 Canadian authors that I happen to think are still doing an admirable job of telling our stories:
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Image by Canada Reads
Without a television in my home, I’m usually a little behind-the-times when my students discuss TV shows and commercials, but watching hockey with my father-in-law the other night, I thoroughly enjoyed 
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, by Ann-Marie MacDonald
Or should we consider something radically different? The classical production of Antigone at Soulpepper in Toronto? Or the comedy of The Odd Couple at Drayton? The Shaw Festival is offering everything Noel Coward.
My students enjoy the odd random digression, especially when it is hockey related. When I talk about hockey, I talk about the storied Boston Bruins. Well, because I was not yet born the last time the Boston Bruins won the Stanley Cup, my personal list of favourite Beantown hockey players does not include the likes of Bobby Orr and Phil Esposito. Instead, the two rosters that I’ve known to be most worthy of legendary status include the skaters of 18 years ago, and the team currently leading the Sabres in the 3rd period at the TD Banknorth Garden. Therefore my all-time favourite Bruins are: