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A TALE OF TWO STORIES a novel by Matthew Gerard Leslie Bachelor of Arts (Honours), University of Windsor, 2002 A Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfilment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts in the Graduate Academic Unit of the Department of English Supervisor: Mark Anthony Jarman, MFA, English Examining Board: John Clement Ball, PhD, English Anette Guse, PhD, Culture and Language Studies This thesis is accepted by the Dean of Graduate Studies THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW BRUNSWICK January 2008 © Matthew Gerard Leslie, 2008 Library and Archives Bibliotheque et 1*1 Canada Archives Canada Published Heritage Direction du Branch Patrimoine de I'edition 395 Wellington Street 395, rue Wellington Ottawa ON K1A 0N4 OttawaONK1A0N4 Canada Canada Your file Votre reference ISBN: 978-0-494-82657-7 Our file Notre reference ISBN: 978-0-494-82657-7 NOTICE: AVIS: The author has granted a non­ L'auteur a accorde une licence non exclusive exclusive license allowing Library and permettant a la Bibliotheque et Archives Archives Canada to reproduce, Canada de reproduire, publier, archiver, publish, archive, preserve, conserve, sauvegarder, conserver, transmettre au public communicate to the public by par telecommunication ou par I'lnternet, preter, telecommunication or on the Internet, distribuer et vendre des theses partout dans le loan, distribute and sell theses monde, a des fins commerciales ou autres, sur worldwide, for commercial or non­ support microforme, papier, electronique et/ou commercial purposes, in microform, autres formats. paper, electronic and/or any other formats. The author retains copyright L'auteur conserve la propriete du droit d'auteur ownership and moral rights in this et des droits moraux qui protege cette these. Ni thesis. Neither the thesis nor la these ni des extraits substantiels de celle-ci substantial extracts from it may be ne doivent etre imprimes ou autrement printed or otherwise reproduced reproduits sans son autorisation. without the author's permission. In compliance with the Canadian Conformement a la loi canadienne sur la Privacy Act some supporting forms protection de la vie privee, quelques may have been removed from this formulaires secondaires ont ete enleves de thesis. cette these. While these forms may be included Bien que ces formulaires aient inclus dans in the document page count, their la pagination, il n'y aura aucun contenu removal does not represent any loss manquant. of content from the thesis. 1+1 Canada ABSTRACT A. Tale of Two Stories is a non-linear multi-narrative novel with metafictional tendencies. It tells—in tandem—the stories of Jimmy Jenkins and Leanne Jacobs, and explores the idea of liminality within the context of developing and maintaining relationships with others. The novel touches on themes of isolation, renewal, friendship, guilt, perception, urbanity, and love. It examines urban Canada and popular culture through its depiction of college students growing up and living in the border city of Windsor, Ontario, and the more metropolitan Montreal, Quebec. Critical influences on this work are Jeanette Winterson, Victor Turner, Marcel Cornis-Pop, and contemporary Canadian novelists Michael Winter, Lynn Coady, Russell Smith, and Heather O'Neill. 11 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to thank my family and friends for their constant love and support and the countless others who have inspired me along the way. Merci. Dedicated to David and Rachelle Leslie 111 TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT ii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iii TABLE OF CONTENTS iv TITLE PAGE v A TALE OF TWO STORIES 1 AFTERWORD 394 BIBLIOGRAPHY 410 CURRICULUM VITAE iv A TALE OF TWO STORIES a novel v I CALL him Jimmy. James David Jenkins is a twenty-three year old man—we'll have to use the term very lightly as we begin—with a bright smile and brazen wit. We find him in his car on a Saturday night turning left onto Riverside Drive, the Detroit skyline a backdrop of lights, refracted and twinkling on the water. Jimmy slapped the gas, racing past Casino Windsor and its gaudy facade. He popped in the car lighter and pulled a slightly bent cigarette from his breast pocket. He turned on the stereo. The lighter popped. He lit the smoke. Inhaled. Exhaled. Jimmy flicked ash out the window and took another drag. He could feel the nicotine increase his heartbeat, feel it shorten his breath, feel it course through him. And then just like that, Jimmy Jenkins figured his way in. Raising his brows, it suddenly seemed so goddamn simple to him. It's as quick as a firm slap in the mouth. It's as effortless as falling asleep drunk. Shit, it's as smooth as Miles on Kind of Blue. As emotional as Coltrane on A Love Supreme! Put another way: it's as smooth as Boards on Musk Has The Right and as sonically emotional as Aphex on Ambient Works Volume Two! Wooh ... a double whammy! Expressed bluntly: it's fucking Huge with a capital aitch! And all Jimmy has to do is kid himself into believing this, and he'll be all right. Then Jimmy Jenkins will be jusssst fine. He glanced out the rear-view mirror and pressed his foot down on the gas, the momentum of the car accelerating his thoughts. And with speed, music, and tobacco supporting him, Jimmy Jenkins decided to comfortably swallow the fact that he was probably never going to be happy with the finished product of anything that came out of his puerile brain—at least not yet. He blamed most of this on quitting smoking. You see, Jimmy felt as if he'd been neglecting his introverted thought process as of late. For habitual reasons, he felt he needed a goddamn cigarette to take his mind to that solitary and stillest of places . sigh . and he was convinced that smoking one of these little death rockets would facilitate this important and exigent thinking process. So he'd mooch a smoke off of some random and secretly smoke it in his car on the way home. What a fucking laugh riot. Regardless of all this wash, Jimmy Jenkins wanted to start something big. Something genuine, something driving, ya know? And so he shall. 2 Picture him as a fledgling bird, a chick really, all puffy and fluffy and yellow. All he can do is chirp, and everyone thinks he's as cute as a peach. Oh life was so easy before I had wings, Jimmy thinks to himself, and then he laughs, yes—and then he chirps himself to sleep with his weary cock in his hand. But like he mentioned, he quit smoking. And would not wrap his filthy lips around another cigarette for nearly six months. An entire winter and a delightful spring spent cough free, but oh! then the summer . and with it Jimmy's predilection. "So is this like your New Year's Resolution?" just about everyone asked him. "No, it's like my life resolution," Jimmy would say. Yet sometimes he lost all conviction. His mind was incredibly liable, especially when it came to tricking him. So he'd have a private relapse. And then, inevitably, the subjective guilt would set in. While Jimmy huffed nicotine deep into his lungs, pangs of guilt would smack him in the face with filthy rubber gloves. SMACK SMACK. Nevertheless, Jimmy would smoke that cigarette down to filter, and with a delicate cough, followed by a clearing of the throat—that struck one's ear like a brick being dragged across the pavement—his clandestine litde smoking adventure would be complete. 3 This would only happen like once every other week or so, but on such a day Jimmy would wake in the cool wee hours of the morn and huskily whisper to himself: I will smoke a cigarette today. And tonight, of all nights, just happened to be one of those humid nights where Jimmy would bum a cigarette from a stranger and secretly fire it back in his car on the way home. And it was at this very moment (while Jimmy was smoking a cigarette from a stranger), that he figured out his way in, and a way to begin. Nicotine is a deceptive drug—because while you're pumping your lungs full of its taint, for some reason, it creates an illusion of significance, as if life only makes actual sense when you're breathing tobacco in and out of your lungs. It's completely fucking false, but when a smoker decides to do something exciting or important and has a gesticulating cigarette in hand, it does seem to drip an extra drop of emphasis into that person's resolve. Case in point: one Jimmy Jenkins. In spite of these bi-weekly transgressions, Jimmy was steadfast on the quitting tip, he was rocksteady, and the bastard could breathe again. Ahhhhh . in through the nose and out through the mouth. Still, the cravings endured like tiger claws in his belly. So, during the process of making his charred husks o' lungs as pink as a pussycat's tongue again, Jimmy immersed himself in books. He distracted himself with words. 4 You wanna smoke? Read a short story. You wanna buy a pack? Start reading a novel. You wanna sift through the ashtray in the backseat of your car? C'mon, there's gotta be a refry in there somewhere for Chrissake! Just keep reading Jimmy Jenkins, just keep reading. At this moment {while Jimmy speeds through ayellow light), he's reminded of a woman named Grace. Grace is a high-school English teacher who hangs out at a pub on campus called The Archive with the English professors. She was once an ambitious young academic who wanted it all, but ended up getting pregnant while completing her Master's, which unfortunately resulted in her never getting her PhD.

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