You have a new face.
Living a life needs familiar faces, the faces of your family, of your friends.
I don’t recognize your face.
Or your family. Or your friends.
Somewhere down the line you chose the wrong mask.
Turn you face to the wall; show us the blank back of the head.
Blankness is something we recognize.
For more information about Manual for Emigrants or to purchase the book, please click here.
Pub Date: 2007
In Fraser Sutherland’s latest collection of poems, Manual for Emigrants, all the myriad aspects of exile and belonging are explored in ways both witty and moving. The voices of the outsider and the voices of those who believe they belong are juxtaposed in an impassioned dialogue that resists conclusion.
Click for an excerpt from Manual for Emigrants.
Fraser Sutherland has made a practice of hanging around people whose first language isn’t his own, and are otherwise as different as possible from him. Which is surprising, or maybe isn’t, because he is descended from an unbroken line of Highland Scots, was born in northern Nova Scotia, and has lived in Halifax, Ottawa, Montreal, and Nelson, B.C. He now resides in Toronto.