Tag Archives: michael luis

Grant Lawrence a true Canuck

The Lonely End of the Rink

By Grant Lawrence

Published by Douglas and McIntyre

240 Pages (plus recommended reading, recommended listening, and thank yous), $26.95

Reviewed by Michael Luis

We all know the cliché of jock vs. nerd, but perhaps no more than Grant Lawrence. The 42-year-old CBC Radio personality from Vancouver details this social war in his second book, The Lonely End of the Rink.

The Lonely End of the Rink details Lawrence’s journey to love hockey all the way from his first slippery stumbles on the ice as two-year-old, to his successful run in Vancouver’s premier beer-league in his late 30s. While this makes up the majority of the narrative, Lawrence also weaves in the tale of his hometown team, the Vancouver Canucks, providing an in-depth history of their start as a 1970s expansion team, up to the 2011 Stanley Cup series.

Lawrence focusses on his relationship with grade-school bullying for the early portion of his personal narrative. Lawrence deftly describes these bullies (with names like Buck, “Psycho”, and “Gooch”): “Gooch was a Shrek-shaped hillbilly originally from the small town of Horsefly, BC.”(95).

The stories of how these bullies – almost all hockey players – treated Lawrence are gut-wrenching and portray Lawrence as an underdog we can back. “He threw my bag in the direction I was running as hard as he could…the side of my skull cracked against the thin layer of waxed linoleum covering the hallway’s concrete floor like a snooker ball being struck by a baseball bat” (73)

Lawrence’s language is simple and modest with light metaphors. While many of the metaphors are vivid and concrete, such as the snooker ball and bolas, many of them reference pop-culture, like referring to “Gooch” as “Shrek-shaped”. Considering Lawrence’s position as a media personality, their inclusion makes perfect sense. While the metaphors serve as quick referential humour, the volume of references – some of which being overly specific – can be exhausting. Some were hilarious, such as describing the bizarre opening act for Lawrence’s band The Smugglers as “a Pink Floyd-meets-The Lord of the Rings pagan rock nightmare” (119), but many felt forced and unnecessary, such as the description of “Breaking Bad-esque science-teacher glasses” (17). That being said, I laughed out loud at most.

In terms of the second narrative of the Canuck’s history, Lawrence effectively includes the information that best compliments his personal journey. For example, he focusses on the Canucks’ famous goalie trio of “King” Richard Brodeur, “Captain” Kirk Mclean, and Roberto “Bobby Lu” Luongo. Lawrence was always enamoured by the goalie position, even when disliking hockey as a teen. Since the personal narrative explores many of Lawrence’s failures, it’s no fluke that he examines the Canucks’ three Stanley Cup losses; from the optimism following the 1982 runner-up team, to the brutal riots of 1994 and 2011.

Whereas the Canucks have yet to return to the finals and achieve redemption, by the end of book’s 240 pages, Lawrence achieves his. The book is a tale of falling down on the ice, brushing yourself off, and popping back up. It’s about learning to love what you once hated, and realizing why you love what you already do. The Lonely End of the Rink’s memoir-meets-arts-meets-sports fusion isn’t as game-changing as Orr and Gretsky were, but it’s a unique personal take on our nation’s greatest passion, and definitely worth strapping on some skates for.

Michael Luis is a Victoria student, writer, filmmaker, and musician. Check him out at www.michaelacluis.wordpress.com.

What is it to be an asshole?

Assholes: A Theory

By Aaron James

Published by Doubleday

201 Pages (plus Appendix), $25.95

Reviewed by Michael Luis 

We’ve all experienced the wrath of assholes, whether this is every day at work, at home, or—perhaps most commonly—in traffic. In Assholes: A Theory, American philosopher Aaron James contends that “asshole” is more than just an insult for an unpleasant person, but a specific type of human being indelibly ingrained into our society.

James is an associate professor of philosophy at The University of California, Irvine and is known for his book Fairness in Practice: A Social Contract for a Global Economy. He holds a PhD form Harvard, and like many of us, has presumably dealt with a lot of assholes.

Right away Assholes establishes its mission statement: “What is it to be an asshole? The answer is not obvious, despite the fact that we are often stuck dealing with people for whom there is no better name. (pg. 2)” This question is examined, and inevitably answered over the book’s seven chapters which feature such titles as “Newer Asshole Styles” and “Asshole Management.”

James applies his experience in both moral and political philosophy to dissect the asshole. I found the former style of philosophy to be the most engaging and interesting. Though I have very limited experience in academic philosophy, I was still able to relate to James’s musings, as I’ve had many run-ins with assholes and found it interesting to look at their make-up from an intellectual perspective. Explorations such as the difference between assholes and psychopaths (pg. 53) and the way we will cuss the word “asshole” even when the asshole can’t hear us (like in traffic) piqued my interest and answered questions I already had going into the book (pg. 127).

The book is also splashed with humour. The part in the second chapter “Naming Names,” where James shows us different types of assholes using relevant pop-culture examples, had me smirking as I flipped the pages. Richard Dawkins is the quintessential “smug asshole” for example; “He writes cocksurely that the views of millions of reasonable and intelligent people have no merit whatsoever… (pg. 40)” Rush Limbaugh and Oasis’s Noel Gallagher are “boorish assholes,” yet Winston Churchill is “boorish, but not quite an asshole. (pg. 47)”

However, this humour almost ends up being the book’s downfall. Assholes is trapped in a strange scenario: the way it examines a brash term with an academic tone could be mistaken for satire; however, the book ultimately ends as a solid moral and political philosophy book with some colourful language. I made this mistake initially, and it took me a little while to realize my misinterpretation and regroup.

I also struggled when the book shifted from moral to political. The political sections felt forced, like James was trying to apply the asshole sheen to the other end of his expertise. The examples within the “Asshole Capitalism” chapter were significantly less concrete than the book’s earlier portions, and were very hard to grasp for a casual plebe like myself with a very limited knowledge of political science (pg. 153). However, I was able to understand his sections on “royal assholes” and “presidential assholes” which combined the political with moral examples such as former American vice-president Dick Cheney (pg. 58).

Though Assholes: A Theory is accessible enough for a philosophy newbie like myself to gain knowledge and entertainment from certain sections, ultimately, this book would be better appreciated in the hands of a philosophy student or enthusiast. I can firmly say this is a much nicer summary than “Fuck this book. I’m better than it.”

As I just learned from James, that’s something an asshole would say.

Michael Luis is a Victoria student, writer, filmmaker, and musician. Check him out at www.michaelacluis.wordpress.com.