Every now and again Canadian literature falls into a contrived paroxysm. It usually occurs when a certain type of writer dies or a certain type of politician makes a certain type of speech about a certain type of writing. Recently it happened when Coach House Press went out of business. There was a week of obituaries, with arts writers abandoning objectivity as they covered the event. On the Saturday following the announcement, almost half of the letters page of the Globe and Mail was devoted to laments about Coach House. Quite a few of the letters were sloppy and rhetorical. Even a novelist as talented as Susan Swan (and I hope she still considers me a friend after this) wrote that she was "frightened" by the demise of the publisher and by subsequent statements made by the premier of Ontario, Mike Harris. Come on, Susan; we are frightened of cancer or of invading armies marching down the street, not by comments about arts funding.

The publisher Louise Dennys said that she was "devastated" by the whole thing; Alberto Manguel said that "we Canadians are stupid and cowardly. All we deserve is our Mounties being leased to Disney." The usual suspects made the same old warning and everybody blamed the government cuts.

Now it is a shame that Coach House could not continue to publish. The press put out some good work, helped writers to launch their careers, and made available foreign and esoteric work that might not otherwise have been seen in this country. In a perfect world Coach House would still be with us. In a perfect world nobody would be hungry or homeless and in a perfect world hypocrisy would be non-existent. But we do not live in a perfect world.

Three of the most vocal supporters of Coach House were Margaret Atwood, Timothy Findley, and Michael Ondaatje-who is a member of the press's governing collective. Margaret Atwood has allowed Coach House to publish some of her work but not her major novels. Why did not Atwood, Ondaatje, and Findley, for example, have all of their successful and lucrative books published by the struggling house they believe to be so vital to Canadian culture? This would have made Coach House economically stable. And then there is Mr. Manguel, whose career is going so well these days. He is published by Knopf Canada, part of an American giant. Some nationalists argue that large American publishers have an unfair advantage and are actually doing harm to Canadian letters. I think that this is absurd, but then I am not a Canadian nationalist. I am not sure whether Alberto Manguel is a nationalist. I am sure that his next book, predicted to be an international triumph, is not being published by Coach House Press.

Then there is the issue of philanthropy. The authors mentioned above are all highly successful, and all honour to them for that. The movie deals made by Atwood and Ondaatje combined with book sales that must now run into the millions have made them very well-off. If for some reason they did not want to be published by Coach House, they and their far-from-impoverished friends could have organized a concert or campaign to keep the house alive for another year, or dare I say it, simply donated money to a good cause. To provide a rough guide, some of us believe that a tenth of our income should be given to charity.

Coach House became too dependent on government grants. These were bound to be reduced and in fact should be. Coach House's publisher, Margaret McClintock, knew all about this, particularly as she was formerly head of the literature department of the Ontario Arts Council. For all of its successes Coach House was still completely unknown to the vast majority of Canadians, even those who are fairly serious readers. People who are already ridiculously over-taxed should not have to subsidize a publishing house of which they have never heard, which publishes books which they will never read.

Earlier this year an Ontario radio station, CJRT, had its government funding withdrawn. In one act this vibrant, necessary station lost every public dollar. It reacted with defiance. A reserve fund stored away for just such an occurrence was used for the difficult year ahead, fundraising efforts were increased, small cuts were made, and the staff felt almost liberated that they were now on their own and would live or die by their own work. They are doing extremely well. It is sad that Coach House Press died. But for various reason I do not believe that death was necessary. And I do not believe that the right people are being blamed.