Moving Targets: Writing with Intent, 1983–2004

W.J. Keith is a retired professor of English at the University of Toronto and author A Sense of Style: Studies in the Art of Fiction in English-Speaking Canada.

Moving Targets, as the introduction notes, is a sequel to Second Words,
a gathering of essays, reviews, and addresses that Atwood published in
1982. The review of Second Words that I wrote at that time for the
Canadian Forum was titled “Atwood as (Infuriating) Critic.” More
than 20 years later, I haven’t changed my opinion.

Why? Partly because she can so rarely resist the facetious jibe. Thus,
contributing to a book of reminiscences by “distinguished writers,”
she refers to a time when she was “ambushed” by the poetry of T.S.
Eliot, and comments: “I did not yet know that it was the done thing,
by now, to refer to him as T.S. Idiot.” No justification given, of
course. Is this remark worthy of a “distinguished” writer? And
consider that “done thing.” The slanginess of the phrase apart,
isn’t it troubling to find a “distinguished” writer so desperately
concerned with the latest trend?

As one reads through this collection, it is difficult to banish the
suspicion that Atwood takes her journalistic responsibilities too
casually. Her literary criticism is so often padded out by the
anecdotal: her afterword to Margaret Laurence’s A Jest of God includes
a story about their first meeting at a Governor General’s Awards
reception. Not without interest, but she’s supposed to be assisting
readers in approaching the novel’s artistry.

Again, several of the reviews reprinted here comment on American
fiction (and even politics) for American journals. Fair enough, but one
wonders how Atwood, in her Canadian-nationalist phase, would have
responded if, say, The Globe and Mail had invited an American to
pontificate on Canadian issues.

Perhaps the most useful items here are her commentaries on the writing
of The Handmaid’s Tale, Alias Grace, and Oryx and Crake, and her
generous tribute to writer friends like Dennis Lee, Marian Engel,
Mordecai Richler, and Carol Shields. Atwood being Atwood, there are
naturally some intriguing comments here. But can one help being
infuriated at a literary situation in which publication depends on the
fame of the author rather than on the overall quality of the contents?