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The Frye Festival was very excited to learn that the new District 2 school in Moncton's North End will be named after Northrop Frye. We honour Frye each year through our Festival and are very happy that students will be feeding their imaginations at this new school

Are you voting every day? Vote daily to help Moncton win a bronze, life-sized sculpture of Northrop Frye sitting on a park bench, reading a book outside the Moncton Public Library. You can also watch our video.

THANK YOU! The Frye Festival wrapped up another stellar season with the presentation of the first Frye Academy Award on May 31st.  Thank you to all the volunteers, sponsors, partners and fans who helped make this another successful year.  If you have any suggestions or comments for the Frye Festival Team, please email info@frye.ca. Until next time, we leave you with these words by Jesse Robichaud, our Poet flyé:

We may be in more trouble than we may know
We’re sitting on a collision course between a mighty river and a brimming volcano

Waiting for a crash course in everything.
Signe d’un docteur de lettres
Ou bien d’une lettre du docteur, signe.

Free-range desire
Caged-up fire

Nul raison d’épargner ses mots,
Dans cette économie il faut les dépenser.
Tax purposes.
H & R Writers Block.

Les cris des poètes s’enchainent
Les hiboux se déchainent.

Ni bodyguards ou gardes-corps (gardes-fous).
Réalisations unies, munies de mots et de métaphores
Mega-roar.

Sans peur des poètes, ni des hauteurs,
Moteurs matrices,
Trop près de l’hélice

Runaway volcano - délit de fuite.
Runaway river – sauve-toi tout de suite.

Qu’est-ce que je mets sur facebook j’ai ainque so much de characters?

Public prophets on the city bus.
Purple neon tan.

Uncaged fire
Spent desire

Here’s a toast to those who clap first.

And a toast to those who make it all possible, and keeps the writer’s voice alive, aloud.

And we should not forget the biggest toast of all.
To the authors who hop from intercontinental flights to continental breakfasts.
The continental breakfasts for intercontinental champions.

And to the volunteers, stricken by the ‘bénévolat’ virus.

A river of colour, of symbols that flutter, of paint and vibrating strings ---
qui coule sans barrage, erupting over the tarmac, washing away the blacktop with prism tinted whitewash.

- Jesse Robichaud, Poet flyé