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Books Front
 

July 12th, 2007
Decalogue 2, Ten Ottawa Fiction Writers, ed. Rob McLennan
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Throwing punches
Jeremy Mesiano-Crookston
 


Decalogue 2, ed. Rob McLennan (Chaudiere Books, 2007)

Some of Decalogue 2's authors break wood effortlessly, others use brute force

I have no idea what good writing is. But in my limited experience, I usually liken it in a very particular way to martial arts. In the correlation of joints, sinews and mind there are a thousand different ways to throw a punch. Many of them will break a board, but only a couple will produce that feeling of cottony weightlessness when the wood parts effortlessly.

Decalogue 2: Ten Ottawa Fiction Writers is a very good collection of technically sound pieces. But despite its obvious quality, there is a side to Decalogue 2 that puzzled me. Most stories worked in terms of function, and the boards broke effortlessly, but others seemed forced. The punches thrown were imperfect and the boards broke thanks to crude muscle rather than elegance. For example, Emily Falvey's work was structurally sound, but somehow lines like "Debris hung about the room like clusters of silent grey insects" jarred me. How can debris hang? Is all debris tiny and grey? Insects don't usually remain silent and still so why invoke their image? Likewise, despite Clare Latremouille's excellent first novel, The Adventures of Jesus Drysdale reads weakly against the obvious talent her first novel displayed. The vivacity of her previous work seems here transmuted into a sort of cartoon, especially concerning the appearance of Jesus outside a café.

But then, some of these stories vibrate with that wonderful feeling of perfection you get from a piece of really elegant and powerful writing.

Particularly charming
is John Lavery's wonderfully bizarre and beautiful tale, which weaves together a Russian biologist in the twilight of his life, his nagging wife, giant crabs of the Barents Sea, and the Byzantine movements of the Russian fishing bureaucracy. It's a marvellous piece, and I was sorry to see it end.

Gabriella Goliger tells the coming-of-age story of a young daughter of Holocaust survivors who "struggles with her emerging lesbian identity." I have to admit that just about every element of that description made my face blank with dread. But it's to the author's credit that she can make a combination of such incredibly common literary tropes - domineering mother, lesbian, coming of age, Jewish - into a touching and interesting story.

The overwhelming tone of this collection is one common to Canadian literature - of perseverance and endurance in the face of failure. Somehow the act of simply surviving reflects and reinterprets the experience of failure - whether spiritual, moral or physical - into something savagely beautiful. It is certainly not a noble or dignified beauty, but somehow we feel that simply remaining is a sort of justification. Maybe this is the burgeoning literary voice of Ottawa - an unconscious resistance to the feeling of insectile bureaucracy that pervades. In this, Decalogue 2 is beautiful.
 
 



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Nope.  
 
No oversight. With limited room, one can't comment on every story in a large collection. Firth's story was good, but it's not one of the ones I chose. Simple as that. And to comment on your comment, not everybody in the world believes that the only fiction "of substance" ends with vomit and thrown food. It's a pretty sad thing to hobble all the other stories in this collection because they don't register on your Palahniuk scale.

Jeremy Mesiano-Crookston

July 15th, 2007

An Oversight?  
 
I am wondering why Matthew Firth's terrific story, "Aquamarine," is not mentioned by the reviewer. Few writer's can match Firth's gritty realism and authentic voice; certainly, none of the writers in this collection. There is a great difference between craft an substance. Firth's fiction has both in abundance. His story is the piece that stands out in Decalogue 2.

Zsolt Alapi

July 14th, 2007


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