A number of words come to mind while reading Bertrand Laverdure’s newest novel in English translation, The Neptune Room: beautiful, messy, morbid, poetic, and, at times, problematic.
Larry Tremblay’s Impurity is a literary mystery. Antoine, a middle-aged Montreal professor, grieves over the recent death of his wife, Alice, a bestselling novelist, as well as the suicide of his long-lost friend, Félix. An intellectual grump who’s always dismissed sentimentality, he struggles with the waves of emotion that wash over him as he tries to process this double loss.
Kate Wake is Canadian poet Mariianne Mays Wiebe’s first foray into fiction. Her heroine, Katie, is a solitary artist with a troubled past, and we follow her as she delves into her memories and family history.
Ready to lose yourself in a noirish detective novel? If so, Never Forget is your next read. The third installment in Martin Michaud’s Victor Lessard series is an immersive thriller full of darkness, loathing, and vengeance.
A simple coming-of-age narrative told in rhythmic prose, The Benjamenta College of Art follows Luca, a first-year student carving outa place for himself at the titular institution.
To the Boys Who Wear Pink is the story of a party. Revolving around a core of eight former self-identified kings of high school, the night is narrated through a string of twenty-four voices as each attendee is given a chance at the narrative auxiliary cable.
Vicki Gendreau operates in a mode that oscillates between nihilism and sincerity, a whirl of impenetrable irony. Nothing Gendreau writes is true or serious, but everything is.
Every aspect of the book, from its plot to its construction, speaks to its title. The words are strung together delicately, reflecting on the fragility of life, questioning the purpose of this human existence.
Butterflies, Zebras, Moonbeams, the debut novel from Ceilidh Michelle, follows B, a “not yet [...] but soon” musician, as she wanders through the apartments and lovers of her twenties.
The manifesto of plucky editors Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson for this anthology was to gather great short stories that not only centre the disabled experience (all main characters are disabled, Deaf, neurodiverse, spoonie, and/or managing mental illness or chronic conditions), but also buck the tired tropes that dominate disabled representation.
Claremont traces the intersecting stories of the members of a family that is not only simply unhappy, but reeling in the face of tragedy. In the first chapter, readers follow nine-year-old Tom as his abusive father, Russell, murders his mother Mona before also killing himself. In the wake of these events, Mona’s three siblings, Will, Sonya, and Rose, attempt to rally together to care for Tom.
Set-Point might seem effortless in its easy, acerbic veneer, and the affectlessness of its language might be confused for a kind of apathetic neutrality, but to mistake it for either is to be the butt of the book’s joke. Parker is here to remind us: nothing is easy.