In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Acknowledgements This book has been very long in the making, and the debts of gratitude I owe increased proportionately with the time that passed. Simply to list the names of those to whom I must express my thanks risks slighting their contributions, but to state what I owe them would make these acknowledgements unduly protracted. I have decided that better than either of those unpalatable options would be to convey my gratitude to each and every one of them personally. I look forward to seeing them all in the coming months and to sharing with them (singly, in pairs, and collectively) some bottles of wine, which I have set aside especially for the purpose. I do want to acknowledge here the extraordinary debt I one to one particular group of people. Not only has this book been a long time in the making , but it encountered many difficulties, which only the knowledgeable staff at Wilfrid Laurier University Press know about (and they won’t tell). Brian Henderson, Clare Hitchens, Leslie Macredie, and Lisa Quinn—every one of them has been deeply committed to this challenging, troublesome project. Working with such a gracious and knowledgeable group made the preparation of the manuscript and my efforts in its production endurable. Their supporting cast—copy editor Matthew Kudelka, designer and compositor ix x Acknowledgements Daiva Villa, and indexer Elaine Melnick—have been exemplarily professional. I want to acknowledge particularly the herculean efforts made by the WLU team’s Managing Editor, Rob Kohlmeier: he has defended and protected this project with impressive rigour and understanding—and his calm, steadying approach kept this project moving relentlessly ahead, despite a sometimes unruly and often nearly despondent author. I owe him—and all members of the team at WLU Press—a lot more than I find myself able to express. They are models of commitment to the humanities and fine arts, and that resolve and understanding is rare these days. To them I want to say, “I don’t know how I was so lucky to find you.” An angel must have sent me my studio assistant, Ajla Odobašić. She gives me hope that, despite the darkness of the times, young artists with prodigious talents and critical intelligence still come along, committed to imagining a better world, to developing their talents and putting them to work at nudging that world closer to reality. With her around, working on film is often sheer delight, for she already understands that vision begins in love and finds its fulfillment in love. Her aid on this project—her keen eye and appreciation for the arts, along with her serene, quiet, methodical manner (which cohabit so comfortably with an unstinting imagination)—often spared my thinking from plunging into conceptual folly and my writing from falling into absurdity. No words could possibly convey my debt to my wife, Kathryn Elder, who has shared in the delights and the setbacks that attended this project, helped me track down nearly impossible-to-find sources, tinkered with the prose, challenged my ideas, identified numerous errors (conceptual, factual, descriptive , and grammatical), assuaged my anxieties about participating in conferences (and generally about speaking in public), and periodically exhorted me not to conclude that the struggle naught availeth. Just being with her has enabled me to take joy in our shared cause. You know, Kathy, that none of what I do or make could happen without you. ...

Share