BOOK DAY at the BC PARLIAMENT BUILDINGS

Book Day at the BC Legislature was inaugurated four years ago to celebrate the achievements of BC’s publishing industry by giving MLA’s and staff the opportunity to meet the province’s publishers, authors, writers’ festival directors etc. and to see the broad range of titles currently being produced. As the Honourable Shirley Bond (Minister of Jobs, Tourism, & Skills Training and the Minister Responsible for Labour) said in her mid-morning address to the gathering, the arts create 85,000 jobs in the province and add billions to BC’s economy.

(Please note: I have not fact checked the above statement. I do know that its accuracy might well be suspect, depending as it does on my memory and the poor sightlines and sound bites I was able to glean during the official ceremonies from my location at the back of the crowd in the middle of the Rotunda, outside the Hall of Honour. However, having been married to the founder of Oolichan Books for nigh on forty-eight years, I do understand how investments in the arts keep on giving. “Just think what Shakespeare still means to the British economy every single year,” Ron Smith often remarked to me as we shared our afternoon tea and crumpets.)

Ron Hatch, the publisher of Ronsdale Press in Vancouver, had invited Ron to be part of their display at this year’s celebration. Ronsdale’s table stood by a window near the front of the Hall of Honour, across from a table “manned” by two ladies from the BC Museum. The Hall of Honour was packed with people and some of the displays spilled out into the Rotunda.

Ron and I had set out for Victoria around 6:30 am. Despite the snow we encountered from the summit of the Malahat all the way to the entrance to Goldstream Park, we had hit mostly green lights and reached Langford in good time. However, without warning, we found ourselves jammed in the middle of the morning Callwood crawl. Crawl we did, reaching the Parliament Buildings at 9:10 am. Book Day had officially commenced at 9:00. After circumnavigating the Legislature Buildings, Ron was able to get directions from security, while I stayed with the car, double parked on Government Street. He was directed to an entrance where I was able to press a button at a security gate, and we were allowed to park in a loading zone across from the three handicap spots reserved for MLA’s. From here we were escorted by a cheerful female Security Guard through the bowels of the basement (definitely off limits to the public and any would-be terrorists) to the elevator and up to the main floor.

Wednesday, March 8, as we all know, was also International Women’s Day. Happily in BC, women are well represented in the Legislature. In fact, the top three spots of Lieutenant Governor, Premier and Speaker of the House are currently held by women. Both Judith Guichon and Linda Reid were present at the Book Day and both spoke during the official ceremonies. While Ron spent the morning meeting, greeting and shaking hands with the MLA’s including the Honourable Linda Reid and Her Honour, the Honourable Judith Guichon, I was left to wander the building on a private quest.

Book Day was not the first time that I had been inside the BC Parliament Buildings. I remembered I had been there once before, many, many years ago. For some reason the year 1972 came to mind. I do not know why I was there then. I only know that I was there on my own. I began to visualize a large stained glass window celebrating Zoroaster. I remember thinking how odd it was that Zoroaster, of all the unlikely historical figures to be honoured in the BC Legislature, had been given his very own window. I surmised it would even have been strange in 1898 when the building was officially opened. Indeed it seems odder today when persons of Middle Eastern origin are likely to be viewed with suspicion and not respect. So, having time on my hands, I determined to locate this particular stained glass window.

I wandered about, studying many stained glass windows before approaching a Security Guard on the second floor, above the Rotunda. Casually I asked if he knew of a window dedicated to Zoroaster. He shook his head and suggested that it might be stored somewhere in the bowels of the building, in the basement, perchance? A reasonable explanation I thought and tagged along with a group of tourists who had just arrived on the second floor. Seeing another Security Guard, I abandoned the group and approached this man, asking in a whisper if he knew of a window dedicated to Zoroaster. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Never heard of a window like that.” 

I rejoined the tourists. When the guide asked if anyone had any questions I put up my hand and asked if she knew of a window dedicated to Zoroaster. “Yes,” she said and pointed to the roped off staircase leading to the Legislative Public Gallery. “It’s up there but you can’t go up the stairs. They’re blocked off when the legislature isn’t sitting. But you should be able to see the window from the bottom of the staircase.”

I felt peculiarly buoyant. I ambled over to the designated spot and looked up. My elation vanished. There was a stained glass window but it was a puny pint-sized model with the name ZOROASTER written in the middle. It was definitely not like the full-sized, golden rayed window I remembered. Next to this puny window, sharing the landing, there was another one identical  to the first, except for the name PERICLES written in the middle. I moved sideways, craned my neck and counted three more pint-sized windows dedicated to MINOS, LYCURGUS and CICERO in ascending order up the stairs. I was floored. How could my memory have proved so accurate and inaccurate at the same time? As I pondered this paradox, I remembered a line from Ron’s book:

“The mind is a gifted field of play.”

Somewhat cheered up I rejoined the crowd in the Hall of Honour and returned to the Ronsdale table where I got to shake hands with the Honourable Shirley Bond and swap stories with her about the wonderful times we had spent at Story Time on a Saturday morning in the Prince George Public Library, way back, when we were kids. 

STARRY MOONLIT NIGHT

On Wednesday evening, March 8, Ron read at the Courtenay Library. The library is located in the heart of the downtown area. It is a beautiful timber frame building with a  central skylight over the high central core of the structure. The library’s design is similar to our own home in Nanoose, although our house is built to a much smaller scale. Both places are chock full of books. In addition to the familiar feel of the library, the homey atmosphere was enhanced by old friends and family in the audience.

In the library’s event room there are wide stair-like platforms lining the exterior wall. Numerous large cushions lie scattered invitingly about. If a person were so inclined, s/he could easily stretch out and participate in the evening’s entertainment while lying down, or, if there was nothing else going on, s/he could literally curl up with a good book.

Ron began the evening promptly at 6:30 pm by reading a short passage from the opening section of his stroke memoir. The next hour and ten minutes literally flew by. At twenty to eight, I suggested that, given the library was due to close at 8pm, perhaps Ron might want to wrap up? Particularly since a number of people had come to the evening planning to purchase a copy of his book? (As a wife I do try to be helpful, but I often end up feeling like a party pooper. Also, I was not the one who had arranged for Ron to be at the BC Parliament Buildings in Victoria by 9 am the next morning. Stay tuned.)

We made our final farewells outdoors, outside the front entrance to the library and, by 8:30 pm we were on our way home, down the Inland Island Highway under a starry, moonlit sky.