A poignant meditation on mortality from a beloved Canadian poet

A writer friend once pointed out that whenever Stuart Ross got close to something heavy and “real” in a poem, a hamburger would inevitably appear for comic relief. In this hybrid essay/memoir/poetic meditation, Ross shoves aside the heaping plate of burgers to wrestle with what it means to grieve the people one loves and what it means to go on living in the face of an enormous accumulation of loss. Written during the second wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, shortly after the sudden death of his brother left him the last living member of his family and as a catastrophic diagnosis meant anticipating the death of his closest friend, this meditation on mortality — a kind of literary shiva — is Ross’s most personal book to date. More than a catalogue of losses, The Book of Grief and Hamburgers is a moving act of resistance against self-annihilation and a desperate attempt to embrace all that was good in his relationships with those most dear to him.

Stuart Ross published his first literary pamphlet on the photocopier in his dad’s office one night in 1979. Through the 1980s, he stood on Toronto’s Yonge Street wearing signs like “Writer Going To Hell,” selling over 7,000 poetry and fiction chapbooks. A long-time literary press activist, he is a founding member of the Meet the Presses collective, Editor at Mansfield Press, and for eight years was Fiction & Poetry Editor at This Magazine. He is the author of two collaborative novels, two story collections, seven poetry books, and the novel Snowball, Dragonfly, Jew, which co-won the 2012 Mona Elaine Adilman Award for Fiction on a Jewish Theme. He has also published a collection of essays, Confessions of a Small Press Racketeer, and co-edited the anthology Rogue Stimulus: The Stephen Harper Holiday Anthology for a Prorogued Parliament. Buying Cigarettes for the Dog won the 2010 ReLit Award for Short Fiction. His most recent poetry book is You Exist. Details Follow. He lives in Cobourg, Ontario.

Stuart Ross' profile page

“The Book of Grief and Hamburgers is an ode and celebration of friendships, family, and the footprints that they affectionately leave.” — Excalibur

“Ross is a generous writer; he wants this ease for others, even if his own nature has a tendency toward melancholy. He would rather avoid the whimpers: If you want to cry, then cry. If you want to rage, climb to the top of the highest building and howl at the moon. When it comes to his own pain, he calls his deflections cowardice. But a more forgiving term would be ‘human.’ A burger might be a means of avoidance, but it is also a reminder, a treat, a touch of levity in what can be a cruel and trying existence. Grab a chair. Order up.” — Literary Review of Canada

“A series of bereavements (including that of a close friend and his brother) prompts the Canadian poet to muse on mortality with lyricism and irreverence in this conversational, and often darkly humorous, book-length essay, about a man who has a hard time engaging with grief.” — Zoomer Magazine

“It’s the kind of book you can pick up and revisit — and I already have — rereading a passage here and there. It’s moving, elegiac, and deeply sad, but it’s also a comfort.” — Bloggy Come Lately

“The humour and courageous honesty of The Book of Grief and Hamburgers offers relief to any of us who have struggled with despair during the pandemic and the exponential growth of grief as we age.” — Northumberland Festival of the Arts