When Shaving Seems Like Suicide

David E. Kemp is head of the Drama Department at Queen’s University.

John B. Lee was born on a farm near the village of Highgate, Ontario.
His rural upbringing is evident when he writes about the death of a
favorite dog, an old farmer, a visit by bees, the day the village garage
burned, and, believe it or not, exploding geese. The treatment of these
topics transcends the particular, as Lee comments, often amusingly, on
the human condition. He has a unique ability to leap from the human to
the animal world, and it is through such juxtapositions that
enlightenment comes. In addition to the rural and bucolic, Lee explores
the nature of intimate relationships; especially strong is his analysis
of the tensions that exist between children and parents. Lee’s imagery
ranges from the delicate and naive to the muscular and violent.

Lee’s poetry is instantly accessible. Lively, full of verbal
fireworks, insightful, and often funny, it stimulates both the mind and
the emotions.