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University inAntigonish,Nova
Scotia; amaster’s inEnglish
from theUniversityof New
Brunswick; andaPhD in the
field from theUniversityof
NotreDame,wherehewrote
hisdissertationonThomas
Hardy.
Hebeganwriting short
fiction in the1960s, andwith
complete fealty tohis internal
chronometer completedno
more thanone storyayear.His
first, “TheBoat,”about adeath
at sea,wascollected in the1969editionof “TheBestAmericanShort
Stories,”alongsideworkbyBernardMalamud, JoyceCarolOatesand
IsaacBashevisSinger.
MacLeod’sdebut short-storycollection, “TheLostSaltGift
of Blood,”appeared in1976 toglowingnotices, asdidhis second
collection, “AsBirdsBringForth theSun,” in1986.Thenawatching-
and-waitinggamebegan.
HisCanadianpublisher,McClelland&Stewart, hadgottenwindof
the fact thathewas startinganovel.That, as thecompany’spublisher
emeritus,DouglasGibson, recounted inan interviewafter theauthor’s
passing,wascause forgreat excitement—andgreat apprehension.
“Atfirstmy rolewas just tobeanencouraging friend,” saidGibson,
whoknownMacLeod foryears. “But then, in1988, Ibecame the
publisherof McClelland&Stewart, andat thatpointmybenevolent
interest turned intogreedy self-interest.Andmyhitherto irregularphone
calls turned intoa routineof callsevery sixmonthsor so to say, ‘How’s
it coming?’Andhewouldbecharminglyvague.”
Thepublisher shadowedhisquarry.A relativeof MacLeod’s
whoworked inMcClelland&Stewart’swarehousewaschargedwith
apprisinghimof novelisticdevelopments.Anetworkof molesacross
Canada, attending readingsof thework inprogress, phonedGibson to
reportonnewpassageshehad read.
Yearswentby.Thepublisher’s semiannual callsbecamequarterly
calls— thenmonthly, thendaily.MacLeod “likened them tobeing ina
carwitha small childwho’sconstantlyasking: ‘Arewe thereyet?Arewe
thereyet?’ ”Gibson said.
Oneday, actingona tip
from theauthor’swife, he
trackedhim to theToronto
railway station.On theplatform,
Gibson,wearinga raincoat,
slippedunobtrusively into the
empty seatbesidehim. “Isn’t
thisamazing!”he remarkedwith
studied surprise. “Here I am
patrollingUnionStation looking
forbest-sellerauthorsand Ifind
you.”
MacLeod laughedbut
wouldnot relinquishhis
briefcasewhenhis seatmateoffered tocarry it. It contained theonly
copyof themanuscript inexistence.
Gibsongainedpossessionof themanuscriptonly in1999, after
heflew toWindsor toperformanextraction, armedwithabottleof
Talisker, “single-maltwhisky from theappropriatepartof Scotland.”
Inhardcover, “NoGreatMischief” spent ayearandahalf on
Canadianbest-seller lists.MacLeod,whohadhomes inWindsorand
inDunvegan, onCapeBreton,wasnamedanOfficerof theOrderof
Canada in2008.
Besideshis sonAlexander, his survivors includehiswife, the former
AnitaMacLellan; fourother sons, Lewis,Kenneth,Daniel andAndrew; a
daughter,MarionMacLeod; andninegrandchildren.
Anomnibusvolume, “Island:TheCompleteStories,”comprising the
twoearlier collectionsalongwith twonew stories, appeared in2001.
If theauthorhadhadhisway,Gibsonmightnothavebeenable to
publish “NoGreatMischief”as soonashedid.WhatMacLeodhanded
him thatday in1999wasadense thicketof pages, typed, inawelterof
different fonts, bya seriesof well-meaning friends.
“Iwasgoing to type itup inbeautiful form forhim, youknow,”
MacLeod said ina2001 interview inTheCanberraTimesof Australia.
“Inanother twoyears.”
n
v
Aversionof thisarticleappeared inprintonApril 25, 2014, onpageA23of the
NewYorkeditionwith theheadline:AlistairMacLeod,aNovelist inNoHurry,
Diesat 77.
