
Home » Publishing, and the Perfume of Place
Share this post!

by Peter Midgley
“I’m tired. I’m tired of reading and listening to all the maybes. I’m tired of words shaped into meaningless statements that are almost, almost something … I’m tired of writing into a world that insists on itself as just and fair and ready for a reckoning and/or sometimes reconciliation.”[1]
So writes Otoniya Juliane Okot Bitek about being Black in the world. Otoniya’s words resonate with the fatigue of the constant labour that comes with making oneself noticed. As Luciana Erregue-Sacchi and I talk about Laberinto Press, a new BIPOC start-up in Alberta, I can hear those same words echo through the conversation. I feel Luciana’s fatigue at having to explain Laberinto Press’s mission and of having to reach out to ask for help when it seems so much of the world has turned inward. But I also sense her immense gratitude for those who have supported her, like the Edmonton Arts Council, or the folks at Glass Bookshop and at LitFest.
Luciana leans forward as she speaks, pouring her passion over the internet. What is animating her is the dream of a press that celebrates the full diversity of the words that grow from this province and that thrive in all of Canada. She is talking about Laberinto Press’s first book, Beyond the Food Court: An Anthology of Literary Cuisines (and for the sake of openness, I am a contributor to the anthology). What Luciana says cuts to the heart of what Laberinto Press wants to achieve. More than just being a collection of essays about food, Beyond the Food Court is about trying to allow readers to hear the voices of those Canadians who are hyphenated, and whose English is not Shakespeare’s English. “What is magical is that when writers write in English as their second language, there are new infusions of expressions and there is this in-between zone that cannot be defined, but that make reading really compelling.” She hesitates before continuing, searching for the right words.
“There is this perfume of a place that lingers, that is tied to the writer’s origins. I just wanted that freedom to write about what we wanted, to accept ourselves and to have readers amplify their views of what it is to read in English.”
Luciana is careful to point out that while the idea of amplifying voices is important, there are different modes of embracing languages and cultures, and that writing from hyphenated Canadians is a spectrum that ranges from works in a heritage language to infusing this place, Canada, with that “perfume of place.”
Our conversation turns to Laberinto’s second book, Beyond the Gallery: An Anthology of Visual Encounters. This is another anthology, I remark. Luciana tells me she likes the anthology model because it allows many voices to find a space, but that Laberinto Press welcomes submissions of individually authored books from hyphenated Canadians. Beyond the Gallery tries to highlight the many contributions of Canadian Hispanic writers, designers, and editors. Erregue-Sacchi, who is trained as an art historian, wants to show readers what lies beyond eyesight, to engage them in a conversation about ways of seeing and writing about what we see. Beyond the Gallery fulfills all Laberinto’s mandates—to publish works in heritage languages, and in translation, as well as to allow space for English texts written by Hispanic writers that do not write in Spanish. “With Laberinto,” says Erregue-Sacchi, “I wanted to show that intersection of different modes of embracing one’s culture and one’s language. I believe in a spectrum for using language—whatever the authors need to say what they need to say without guarding the orthodoxy of a particular language.”
Luciana and I talk about translation and the frustration we have both felt at the lack of support for writing in heritage languages. “There is a lot of stimulus in Canada for official language translation and the promotion of official language literary activities—as long as it’s English or French (and Indigenous languages). But there is not enough funding for other types of translation between languages that are not English or French, for translators who want to translate from say—take the case of Beyond the Gallery—Spanish. This corset of language is fine for government documents, but it doesn’t serve the many voices of writers in Canada.”
When it comes to the assistance new publishers receive, Luciana is unequivocal. “The funding structures are hostile and even diabolical. That’s strong, but there are many carrots, but at every turn you’re not eligible. It’s a system that rewards sameness.” That is probably what makes it hardest at all. Luciana has felt the pressure of isolation and the lack of communication between small presses intensely, and the struggle to become part of a community in lockdown has worn at her. “Minority writers and culture producers are very alone and isolated despite the support; we need a lot of community support; we need a lot of introductions. We can make ourselves known on social media, but there’s a limit; it’s not that we are afraid to ask for help. It’s just that existing in this space takes so much effort that I’m completely spent—I don’t have the energy to reach out anymore.”
Being a new publisher is beset with problems. Distributors are reluctant to take on new publishers before they have been operating for a few years, as are professional organizations, but a press’s survival depends on distributing titles to as wide an audience as possible. But Luciana persists, defiant. “I want to be positive. I remain hopeful that Laberinto can help make something happen for BIPOC publishing in the province and the country.” In this, Luciana Erregue-Sacchi and Laberinto are not alone. There are several new BIPOC presses in the country, and many of them face similar struggles with access to funding, distribution, and recognition. In the meanwhile Luciana says, she’ll continue to shift the structures of western narratives in what she does.
[1] Otoniya Juliane Okot Bitek, “Words, Worlds and the Possibility of an Us,” periodicities: a journal of poetry and poetics, Sept 1, 2021. https://bit.ly/38F5dXO
Beyond the Food Court: An Anthology of Literary Cuisines
edited by Luciana Erreague-Sacchi
Beyond the Food Court: an Anthology of Literary Cuisines is a collection of 14 creative non-fiction essays that delve in the subtleties, diversity, and individuality of ethnic cuisines beyond the uniform, kitschy offering at a typical mall food court.