Steven Langdon's Blog: The Write Stuff

I have now finished all five of the books on the Giller Prize shortlist for 2018. Overall, this is one of the best, most diverse set of selections that I can remember -- great job, Giller jury members! There is a wide range of genres, a good mix of writers (three women, two men, with differing backgrounds) and a combination of settings both abroad and in Canada.

For those of us who read our fiction in English, there is a particular treat -- a translation of one of the most popular Quebec French-language novels of recent years. "Songs for the Cold of Heart" by Eric Dupont is a sweeping saga that goes from Riviere du Loup in 1919 to New York, then contemporary Berlin and Rome, built around fascinating characters, sharp humour and an intricate and engaging plot. It's a long book (604 pages) and some of its format works better than other parts (I found the letters sent back and forth between two of the characters a little tedious at times.) But it is so sharp-edged and rooted in the cultural milieu of Quebec -- yet also able to capture the ethos of other parts of North America and Europe -- that I found the novel was a surprising delight to read.

Another trans-Atlantic story is "French Exit" by Patrick deWitt -- though this book has no Canadian connection. Like "The Sisters Brothers," a previous Giller classic, this novel has its dark undertones but also represents a comic romp of eccentric characters and unexpected plot turns. Frances, the acerbic widow whose fortune has fled, escapes by ocean liner to France with her hapless adult son -- and there they draw about their lives a bizarre set of diverse people, whose interactions keep you laughing out loud. To say nothing of her cat, Small Frank, who she feels contains the soul of her dead husband. I enjoyed this book, laughed a lot, was touched by its dark underlay -- but it does not have the depth and strength of feeling of Dupont's novel.

A completely different genre is "An Ocean of Minutes" by Thea Lim. This is a first-rate dystopian novel built around time-travel to escape a spreading disease in America. Polly and Frank are lovers on vacation in Texas, when the flu-like disease begins to spread -- and to get specialized medical attention for Frank, Polly agrees to time travel years ahead to work for a mega-corporation for a set period. The two lovers agree where and when they will meet -- but arrangements go awry. Polly's struggles to overcome her period of bondage are compelling reading, as she seeks to re-find Frank in the future. This, too, is an excellent book -- with much to say about the treatment of contemporary migrants in America, the power of corporate might and the unexpected intricacies of love over many years.

"Motherhood" by Sheila Heti is a complete contrast to all three of these novels. Its narrator is the sole voice in the book, which is a long rumination on whether or not she should become pregnant and have a child. Back and forth her feelings sway, influenced by her partner, and her memories of her mother, before she finally makes a decision. There is no dialogue, virtually no plot -- but this is still a powerful book. It presents the internal workings of a woman's mind in all its intricacies, affected by dreams and changes in her body -- coming to terms with the nature of her relationship with her partner and with the legacy of how her mother treated her. Unlike Dupont's saga or Lim's account of struggle against external forces, this novel is almost a soliloquy.

Any of these books would be a worthy Giller winner, but for me, my preference is "Washington Black" by Esi Edugyan. As I wrote in my earlier review, this story of how an eleven year old slave on a harsh Barbados plantation managed to become a scientific innovator on the other side of the world is emotionally powerful and deeply imaginative. This is a grand coming of age tale of Washington, dramatically emphasizing the equality of all people and the brutality of slavery. Beautifully written, this would be my Giller choice for 2018.

Six books make up the Giller short list for 2016, and together they demonstrate the strength and breadth of Canadian fiction. There is grand variety, from historical fiction to interlaced short vignettes to tragicomedy to grim contemporary drama -- with settings from China to Ireland to Spain to downtown Toronto. Yet sharp-edged vivid writing marks them all; they were a great joy to read.

One book, "The Party Wall" by Catherine Leroux, is translated from French and has been published by Biblioasis, the excellent small publisher from my old home territory of Windsor -- one of a set of Quebecois books tackled in recent years to make contemporary French writing from that province accessible to English readers. The French title, "Mur Mitoyen" (Adjoining Wall,) conveys the book's theme better -- tracing the blood ties that connect many people powerfully in their lives (twins, sisters, children to their parents, etc.) You may be confused as you try to sort out the disparate characters in the interlaced short stories and vignettes, but you will end up as I did admiring the complexity of the people probed, the intricacy of the stories told and the clarity of the writing.

Mona Awad's "13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl" is also a novel structured through separate vignettes, though the main character, Elizabeth, a woman fighting against her sense she is too fat, is a constant in all of them. This is an outrageously funny book in places (commenting on "Misery Saga" -- Mississauga -- for instance, and describing a hilarious vegetarian meal she cooks for her husband) but it is also biting in its social criticism of the emphasis on women's body size concerns in North America. It is a book with its share of tragedy -- the failure of her marriage once she sheds many pounds, and the death of her father. Awad combines all this with verve and skill -- and no recourse to the maudlin.

"Yiddish for Pirates" by Gary Barwin has its share of tragicomedy, too. Its narrator is a 500 year-old African parrot, who keeps telling Yiddish jokes -- while his mainly Jewish pirate crew scuttles about the Caribbean after escaping from the Spanish inquisition, with the help of Christopher Columbus. Yet the book is devastating in its description of European pogroms against Jews and the viciousness of Spanish colonization of New World Indian communities. I must admit that the book lagged for me as yet more pirate attacks took place, with yet more people gutted and stabbed. But there is no question that the novel is highly imaginative and full of literary references (to Shakespeare's "The Tempest," for example.) Plus the parrot has great chutzpah!

The three remaining novels are the best of the six -- Madeleine Thien's "Do Not Say We Have Nothing," Zoe Whittal's "The Best Kind of People" and "The Wonder" by Emma Donoghue.

Thien's book is set mostly in China and traces the interconnected lives of several families through the social extremism of the Cultural Revolution and then the hope and subsequent suppression of the Tiananmen Square uprising. Her characters are beautifully traced and their grim struggles to maintain artistic integrity and personal loyalties effectively realized. Her skills have already been recognized by her receiving the Governor-General's prize for English literature this year.

Whittal's book is about the father in a well-respected New England family being accused of sexual assault of teenagers -- and how this reshapes fundamentally the lives of his wife and his children. George is in jail for months waiting trial while the consequences damage his wife Joan's sense of self-confidence, his son's relationship with his male partner and his daughter's ties to her friends and career hopes. As the oh-so-contemporary criminal process plays out, Whittal is able to probe the way questions demand to be answered and the past needs to be reassessed.

Donoghue's book is also ultimately about abuse of the young, but in a much different time and place (Ireland in the mid-nineteenth century.) A young girl seems to be surviving without food, as she expresses her deep religious beliefs. A miracle, the local community starts to think, making contributions on her behalf to the Catholic church and its charities. But is this possible? An English nurse, fresh from working with Florence Nightingale in the Crimea, is brought in to be a dispassionate observer. But as this book rises gradually in a crescendo of passion and conflict, Lib cannot remain an outsider.

So which of these three excellent novels should get the 2016 Giller? Whittal has written a book that echoes the central concerns of contemporary North America with sexual assault and the way too many men seem to get away with their abuses; her deep and thoughtful examination of the many dimensions involved will be a persuasive reason for awarding her this year's prize. Her book moves with a drive and energy that sometimes seems missing in Thien's novel. I'll be happy if "The Best Kind of People" wins.

But for myself I think "The Wonder" is the best of all six -- not by a large margin, but in slight though compelling terms. Donoghue for me has taken a completely foreign environment dominated by religion, superstition and poverty, and gradually step by step brought it vividly alive. She has also captured the dimensions of child abuse in all their complexity with much more sensitivity and passion than I discern in Whittal's novel. She has written a thrilling and thoughtful book that surprises the reader -- even more so than in "Room," her fine book about the woman and her child captured by a sexual predator. So that's where I would cast my vote for 2016.

The 2015 Giller Prize short-list of five books is very unusual in its orientation - two sets of short stories (both set in working class Quebec communities,) a stylized novel of a British author's week in Athens, the self-agonizing perspective of a sexual aggressor, plus a story of how human-like consciousness affects a pack of 15 dogs. Not exactly your normal Giller list!

If every Giller set of selections tells us something about the evolving direction of Canadian literature, then the message of this year's choices is above all about focusing on the marginalized and vulnerable. In the past decade, the wealthy and powerful have taken centre stage in Canada, with greater uncertainty for workers and the poor. This set of books says we should turn our attention to the precarious at the margins of society.

This change in direction is underlined especially in the two sets of short stories selected by the jurors, Samuel Archibald's "Arvida," and Heather O'Neill's "Daydreams of Angels."

"Arvida" portrays the hard-scrabble life of Francophone working-class men and women in the Anglo-dominated resource town of Arvida in the Saguenay region of northern Quebec -- tracing the tough efforts of people to keep food on the table, the struggle to keep young people in the community and the pressures on relationships that tear people apart. But more than the rugged texture of the resource town, what makes this book is Archibald's vivid writing, the energy and depth that gives his stories such a powerful impact. Especially stark is the "Blood Sisters" trilogy, with its mysterious combination of violence, repressed sexuality and familial intimacy -- all set in the harsh context of surrounding forests and threatening wildlife. This book is so evocative of its particular place and social position that it captured me fully.

"Daydreams of Angels" also brings alive another working-class area, east end Montreal, which Heather O'Neill has conveyed magnificently before, in last year's "The Girl who was Saturday Night," nominated for the 2014 Giller. I thought that novel was excellent and should have won the prize. And this collection contains much of the same sort of high-wire imaginative writing and indelible characterization. The various stories, however, do not for me carry as strong an impact as the 2014 novel. I enjoyed the series of "Grandfather" memories a great deal, giving a depth of history and understanding to Francophone working-class life in the area. But I found the various "Angel" stories less impressive. Overall, there was not the sharp connecting thread in this book that gave "Arvida" its strength.

Of the three novels, I found "Outline" by Rachel Cusk the least powerful. Perhaps that was in part because it had so little connection with Canada; it is a good question why a British author, chosen in 2003 as one of the Best of Young British Novelists, would be nominated for the Giller. But I still enjoyed this book a great deal. Cusk makes her central character, a British author in Athens for a week, glow with perception and emotion, as she reacts to the hot bustling streets, talks with ardent feminists and exiled diplomats, and risks a speed-boat ride with her airplane neighbour who comes on to her sexually as they swim in a secluded bay. Creativity is explored in discussions with other writers and artists, marriage is probed in various relationships considered, and the challenge of living authentically is drawn out with subtlety and skill. A fine book -- but not as remarkable as the two other novels.

"Martin John," by Anakana Schofield, is not an easy novel to enjoy. Its central character is a sexual aggressor who pushes himself on unwilling women and masturbates in public. But it is an act of bravery and creative imagination for the author to inhabit his mind and heart and body for 322 pages in this dramatic book. The result is a cry for empathy and a plea for better treatment for those who are mentally ill. The book is also a fine experiment in writing, with a jagged stuttering format that reflects the deformed perspectives of Martin John -- some pages with just 2 or 3 lines, some paragraphs BOLDLY IN CAPITALS, and some sentences stark and ungrammatical: "17 words with the letter P today." Yet this gives a cadence to the writing that builds a momentum of disarray and disaster as Martin John tries to control himself, to divert himself and then finally to flee from himself.

This book would be a worthy Giller winner. I am especially pleased with its nomination because the novel was published by Biblioasis, the amazing independent Windsor publisher that also produced "Arvida." Two great accomplishments by the folks in my old political home city!

The final novel, "Fifteen Dogs," by Andre Alexis, also reached me very deeply. It begins with a bet between two Greek gods and a nearby dog pound, but turns into a beautiful allegory on the nature of human consciousness. The dogs are given such consciousness to see if it brings them happiness. And much conflict and violence follows in the dog pack, just as in the world around us. But Alexis then takes his story to a much higher level, exploring the nature of communication, the power of relationships and the creative force of poetry and the arts. The result is a novel touching in its depth of feeling, written with skill and almost cosmic in some of its concepts. "A bigger novel in scope and ambition," as the Globe and Mail's Kate Taylor put it, compared to "Martin John."

So where would I award the Giller? "Arvida" I found the biggest surprise in its excellence. "Martin John" is a very brave and original novel. Yet "Fifteen Dogs" seemed to me the most imaginative and striking of this set of five quite fine books. I would give Andre Alexis the 2015 Giller.

The jury for Canada's 2014 Giller Prize, given to the country's best English fiction book of the year, has already signalled how difficult it has found its decision. Rather than the usual five books on the short list, six novels have been nominated.

I've now finished all six, and the most striking conclusion I've reached is how excellent all the books are. This seems to me the strongest overall list that I have seen in the past ten years. There is a combination of emotional intensity, deep character probing and skilled writing in all these novels that is remarkable. And the social and political relevance of the books is powerful in every case, with insights into mental illness, the abuse of human rights, the devastations of war and terrorism, and the realities of poverty.

This social relevance of the 2014 Giller list may be its must significant characteristic. Padma Viswanathan's "The Ever After of Ashwin Rao" is a dramatic story of the effects of Canada's worst terrorist attack, the 1985 bombing of Air India's flight from Vancouver. Francis Itani's "Tell" probes beautifully the harsh impact of World War One on Canadian soldiers and their families. David Bezmogis' "The Betrayers" dissects the politics and betrayals of both the Soviet Union and Israel. Sean Michaels' "Us Conductors" finds its music amid the grim oppression of Stalin's labour camps as well as New York speakeasies. Heather O'Neill brings alive the poverty of marginalized Montrealers, and ties this to the 1995 Quebec Referendum. Miriam Toews uses a darker shade of her sharp-edged writing to ponder the failures of our treatment of mental health to counter tragic suicide.

There are at least four of these books that I could see as an easy-to-justify Giller winner. Bezmogis brings alive the obscure corners of Yalta and recreates the compelling pressures facing Jews in the Soviet Union in its final years. The examination of betrayal in the novel is multifaceted and complex, presenting what for me is the most sophisticated and thoughtful set of themes in any of these novels. The relationship between the main protagonist, Baruch Kotler, and his much younger lover, Leora, is also probed with an unsentimental authenticity that is compelling.

"Tell" is also a fine book. The account it presents is much more constrained geographically, confined mostly to the small town of Deseronto just by Lake Ontario. A wounded soldier, Kenan Oak, returns from World War One to face the difficult task of readjusting to his marriage and his family -- but on this small canvass a deeply emotional though fundamentally simple story plays out. The relationships that Itani traces interact with intricate subtlety and an intensity that builds powerfully but slowly for the reader.

The emotional intensity in Miriam Toews is much less subtle. She is a writer who has written with vivid humour and sometimes a biting edge in the past, but this book is driven with a much darker sense of tragedy. Again and again, Toews builds some sense of hope for the survival of a suicidal sister in the book, but there is a constant current of pessimism in the writing that prefigures the book's final outcome. This is a novel as catharsis, it seems to me, with an emotional depth and power that are extraordinary. It will be no surprise if Toews wins this year, as she has already won the Rogers' Writers Trust Prize.

Heather O'Neill's novel stands out for me because of the vivid uniqueness of its main character, Nouschka Tremblay, twin daughter of a failing Quebecois folksinger. Nouschka's humour, emotional intensity and love of life, despite poverty and abandonment by her parents, bring a verve and spirit to a story that could appear destined for tragedy. O'Neill writes with a raw audacity that conveys a sense of youth and energy that reflects the populist politics behind the 1995 Quebec Referendum. Interwoven with this is a sentimental story of reconnecting with family and finding your way to a better future -- and a warning against the destructiveness of popular fame.

"The Girl Who Was Saturday Night" would be a controversial choice for the Giller. This is very much a novel rooted in Francophone working-class Montreal, conveying the social deprivation of parts of the city. Nouschka is a separatist, she sleeps around, her twin brother is a petty crook; at the same time, she is vividly alive, taking charge of her own life, and the voice of a young generation. O'Neill conveys her superbly and she (Nouschka) is a rare figure in mainstream Canadian literature. I hope this novel wins the Giller -- I would love to see Nouschka speak to a wider world!

I read 50 fiction books last year -- here are the ten best:

1) Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie -- sharp-edged caustic perceptions of modern America from a black Nigerian woman who combines superb writing with an in-depth probing of how young people come to make sense of a shifting world. Adichie finds hope for the future in the dynamic energy of the contradictions of Lagos -- and in the US social changes represented by Obama.

2) Five Star Billionaire, by Tash Aw -- focuses on another thrusting city, Shanghai, and the gritty lives of the migrants attracted to it to try to change their fates. This is a book about the enduring power of the past even when you try to run away, with a superbly structured plot that is veiled yet devastating. A nominee for the 2013 Man Booker prize.

3) MaddAddam, by Margaret Atwood -- the third volume in the author's trilogy about environmental threats to our world, this is a vivid modern version of Jonathan Swift, an allegory in which the human capacity for love and for story-telling defend us against extinction. Written vividly, with indelible characters, this will endure as a classic of world literature.

4) The Rosie Project, by Graeme Simsion -- this book is a delight, comic and touching at the same time. An eccentric genetics prof searches for a wife with a 16 page questionaire and meets a plucky woman with a mission to track DNA to reveal her secret father. Chaos ensues, love improbably sparkles, both sides fight against this fate -- and I found myself laughing out loud for minutes at a time as Simsion played with the consequent dilemma.

5) The Book of Stolen Tales, by D.J. McIntosh -- there has to be a mystery in any "Ten Best" list of mine, and this is an excellent one. John Madison is back, gritty and irreverent as ever, in a smoothly-written follow-up to The Witch of Babylon. A great melange of mystery, Mesopotamia, magic realism and grim commentary on the US in Iraq -- plus lots of fascinating insight on the roots of traditional fairy tales. You'll be waiting for volume three . . .

6) A Delicate Truth, by John le Carre -- this is also a fine suspense novel, but like many of the author's recent works, it's not so much a mystery as a piece of social and political criticism. The star, appropriately in the year of Edward Snowden, is a whistle-blower revealing a sordid British counter-terrorism failure which a grim private firm is trying to cover-up -- quite ruthlessly as it turns out. As always, le Carre seems to have the brooding tone and the subtexts just perfectly tuned in this book.

7) The Round House, by Louise Erdrich -- a call for action against the violence that Indian women suffer from non-Indian men, combined with a coming-of-age tale of Joe, the son of one such woman trying to avenge the attack on his mother (based on an actual incident in North Dakota in 1988.) This is a vibrantly written novel that won the 2012 US National Book Award for Fiction and brings alive a whole set of vivid characters around a driving plot. Erdrich is herself Indian through her mother's side.

8) The Garden of Evening Mists, by Tan Twan Eng -- a beautiful and multi-layered novel that explores the roles of memory, of love and of family in human life. Very powerful in its probing of the relationship between a young Malaysian woman (later to become a judge) and the Japanese gardener who had served the emperor as they work together to build a ceremonial garden in a remote rural area after World War Two. Shortlisted for the 2013 Man Asian Literary Prize for its contemplative insights.

9) The Luminaries, by Eleanor Catton -- very notable as winner of 2013 Man Booker Prize plus Canadian Governor-General's Prize. A dramatic tapestry of vivid characters interacting in a historic saga of the New Zealand goldfields, with a wry backdrop of clever women mostly behind the scenes and shaping what really takes place. Skilled story-telling and fascinating social insights combine with an intricate structure based on astrology and phases of the moon.

10) Cataract City, by Craig Davidson -- set in the gritty working-class context of an Ontario city (Niagara Falls,) this is the sharp-edged story of two young men, one who becomes a policeman, while the other jumps into crime as his factory job is squeezed away. Yet in the end, their bonds pull them back together, pushed by traumatic experiences from their youth. This is a book about retribution, about risk-taking, about tragedy -- but also about friendship, presented with verve and gut energy. A nominee for Canada's 2013 Giller Prize.

Each year's Giller Prize gives a signal about emerging directions in Canada's fiction. The 2013 list says our best writing is exploring darker disquieting spaces.

The 2011 and 2012 Giller nominees showed Canadians exploring the world beyond our borders with deep sensitivity and broad themes -- especially in such novels as Edugyan's "Half Blood Blues," Ondaatje's "Cat's Table," and Ferguson's "419." In 2013, it is not so much different geographic space that is the focus (though "The Crooked Maid" is set in Vienna and "Caught" includes scenes in Latin America;) instead, these books occupy unsettling social/psychological territory where crime, violence, murder and child abuse are found. In each book there are also indelible characters trying to maintain their core of personal integrity as they live in this dark world. There are also complex interpersonal relationships playing out in each of the works -- some are sexual, as in several of Coady's best stories in "Hellgoing," some are between siblings as in Bock and in Vyleta, and some are between friends as in "Caught" and "Cataract City." What makes each of these books memorable is the depth and texturing with which character development is achieved, within the context of compelling story-telling.

For me, two of the novels stand out particularly strongly -- Dennis Bock's "Going Home Again," and Craig Davidson's "Cataract City." Both handle relationships with great sensitivity, provide excellent writing and speak to basic human themes of betrayal, retribution and the meaning of home.

Dan Vyleta's "Crooked Maid" does convey powerfully the grim tragedy of wartime and postwar Vienna, with the suffering that its people endured. But its sprawling scope limits for me the insights into characters that it provides. Lisa Moore's "Caught" is also a fine book with a dramatic plot line. But its main characters do not perhaps ever confront the dilemmas in which they are "caught" -- from destroyed relations with a daughter for the lead policeman to broken trust that hurts the ties between the two drug-running friends. Lynn Coady's refreshing short stories are also striking, but too puzzling in their wide diversity to have as much impact as the Giller novels nominated.

Both Bock and Davidson combine for me the insight into character and the authenticity of emotion that count in a novel's excellence, provide a new window on a distinct time or place, and relate powerfully to broader human concerns.

Dennis Bock's novel is a meditation on what home is, what it means, and how important it is to go back to in fundamental social and philosophic terms. The central character, Charlie Bellerose, is facing the destruction of his domestic world in Madrid, returns to his former home of Toronto, then must face the challenge of distance from his loved 12-year old daughter Ava -- and new connections with his older brother who is dealing with his own marital crisis. Bock provides a subtle and introspective excavation of Charlie's life over 25 years, in the framework of building plot tension -- and in a context of sensitive treatment of changing sexual relationships. The result is a fine emotionally-moving book.

"Cataract City" is more plot-driven, compulsive in its tension and suspense, and shaped by the uncertainty of the changing ties amongst its key figures -- especially the two boyhood friends, one of whom (Owen) becomes a policeman while the other (Duncan) tries to escape failing factory employment through crime. Both of these men emerge, though, as fully realized figures, indelible in their personalities and complex in their thoughts and emotions. What is especially striking about the book, beyond its broad human themes of betrayal and retribution, is the grim portrait it provides of a working class under economic pressure in the recent years of manufacturing crisis in central Canada. The greater insecurity of employment and the uncertainties for young people show in a narrative that also reveals how crime can become attractive and violence increase. It would be dramatic to see this novel win the Giller because it would represent a shout-out for help from those communities now the victims of Canada's de-industrializing bias.

Will this happen? Davidson has written a powerful, driving book, impossible to put down, with a gut energy that reaches out and grabs you. I certainly think this is the book that should win, with a searing authenticity and a shining insight into a working-class world that Canadian literature has too often ignored. But will it prove too raw and unconventional a choice? Can we truly expect dog-racing and bare-knuckle boxing to penetrate the posh setting of 2013 Giller Night? This is not a bottom-up vision from somewhere abroad like Nigeria or Germany -- this is the toughness of life in decline in industrial Ontario. Will the judges underline Duncan's drive to change his world? I certainly hope so.

This past year, I reviewed 53 books on Goodreads, all of which I read during the year. Some of these I have noted in two earlier blog posts, one on the five Giller Prize nominees for 2012 (won, in the end, by "419" by Will Ferguson,) and one titled "Six for Summer."

Besides the 11 books noted in those two blogs, here are five particularly superb books that stick vividly in my mind from 2012:

* "Flight Behavior" by Barbara Kingsolver -- an environmental warning wrapped around the story of a memorable young woman seeking to redefine her life, amidst the tough poverty of the southern Appalachians.

* "Indian Horse" by Richard Wagamese -- a hard-edged story of residential school abuse by an Ojibway writer, in which the clean swift skating of hockey is a metaphor for hope and redemption. Especially powerful in the context of present aboriginal protests in Canada.

* "Sweet Tooth" by Ian McEwan -- a probing exploration of belief and betrayal, as a young woman is drawn into the British intelligence service, then sent to seduce a young writer with undercover funding. A wonderful rewrite on the harsh decade of the 1970's in the UK.

* "Strawberry Fields" by Marina Lewycka -- a picaresque novel, tracing the struggles of a group of itinerant short-term migrants to Britain, trying to survive tough fruit-picking jobs, while they sort out hopes for their future relationships. Written with humour, energy and compassion.

* "The Given Day" by Dennis Lehane -- a powerful and vivid novel about the lives of black Americans and Irish immigrants in post-World War One period of extreme racism and oppression of radicals. Dramatically unlike any of Lehane's usual detective novels, but with similar taut writing.

What is the main message of this year’s Giller Prize list?

English Canadian fiction is vibrantly alive and straddling the globe.

While UK literature seems spellbound by its own insular past, and US literature favours introspective agonizing, Canadian writing is confidently tackling worldwide settings and themes -- and doing so with creative panache and literary skill.

All four of the novels in the 2012 Giller list are set partly abroad and partly in Canada, and all four authors handle the foreign settings powerfully. This is especially true for "Ru," the lyrical memoir of Vietnam childhood and exile by Kim Thuy. But in "419," Will Ferguson also writes superbly about Nigeria; Alix Ohlin has a searing segment in "Inside" that is set in Rwanda; and Nancy Richler in "The Imposter Bride" treats eastern Poland and Israel skillfully as well as Montreal and Thunder Bay.

Compare this with the UK, where Hilary Mantel has just been awarded her second Booker Prize for "Bring Up the Bodies," another historical novel about Thomas Cromwell. Or the US, where recent Pulitzer Prize winners have been "Olive Kitteridge," a wonderful probing of a small-town Maine teacher by Elizabeth Strout(2009,) and "Tinkers," Paul Harding’s death-bed dreams of a New England merchant-farmer(2010.) Neither book notices the wider world.

The contrast with Canada’s global perspective is striking.

It is also exciting to see a new generation emerging of Canadian authors. This is a second novel for Alix Ohlin, for instance, who was born in 1972; "Ru" is Kim Thuy’s first novel; Nancy Richler and Will Ferguson have both written more previous novels, but both their books are very special this time. Russell Wangersky’s short story collection "Whirl Away" is also on the 2012 list.

I am very impressed with all five of this year’s books -- unlike previous years, when two or three books were excellent (in my view,) and others less deserving. This high quality, though, makes it more difficult to argue which single book should win!

The Wangersky volume, for instance, is very powerful in its vivid writing about the marginal and excluded in Canadian society -- even if I find it hard to support short stories as the Giller winner. Richler’s novel, too, I find a probing exploration of rejection and its impact even though there are depths of character than I wish had been more fully analyzed.

The three remaining books have all had a powerful impact on me. The novel that is the most emotionally powerful for me, with the most authentic and original voice, is "Ru;" as one horizon merges into another in the writing, and the poetry traps you, this book in the end overwhelms you. For sheer force of story-telling, though, the most dramatic book is "419;" and there is a deeper reality, related to family, to love, to obligation and to honesty, that this book treats -- even if I have some questions about how the perspectives of some of the Nigerian characters are handled. In terms of character development, finally, my preference goes to "Inside;" this novel is well-written, but what matters most about this book is the depth of character shaped and probed, ranging across genders and generations, with rare sensitivity and insight.

From the perspective of Canadian literature, of course, this diverse quality is excellent. In choosing a single winner, though, it creates a dilemma. In the end, I look, above all, for emotional intensity and authenticity in the fiction that I read -- so, for me, my Giller vote would go to Kim Thuy.

Here are six recent books for summer reading . . .

1. "Ru," by Kim Thuy -- a multi-layered rumination on the life of a 10 year old Vietnamese refugee who escapes to bewildering small-town Quebec, then later returns to Vietnam as a UN official. Beautiful lyrical writing, with sharp, hard insights that snap out to slap your face. Essentially a memoir, starkly honest, "Ru" shows us Vietnam from the perspective of its own people.
2. "Why Men Lie," by Linden MacIntyre -- captures well the texture of downtown Toronto and of insular Cape Breton Island, as it explores the way violence and deceit can disintegrate people’s lives. MacIntyre is brave to try to write from the point of view of Effie, the central woman figure. The novel follows from two earlier books that involve some of the same characters -- and has a depth and complexity that such a trilogy permits.
3. "The Headmaster’s Wager," by Vincent Lam -- another brave book set in Vietnam, about a hard-edged Chinese survivor. A novel about human relationships -- between parents and children, between lovers, between close friends -- all in a context where betrayals, deceptions and passions are released brutally by the cruelties of war. Percival Chen, the headmaster, is a victim of his own powerlessness -- but somehow maintains the strength to endure for the sake of his family.
4. "The Witch of Babylon," by D.J. McIntosh -- just out in a new edition, this is a well-paced adventure combining insights into the world of antiquities dealing in New York, and front-line battles over cultural treasures in post-invasion Iraq. McIntosh has done serious research into Mesopotamia for this novel, and the plot is full of twists and turns that will keep you hooked to the end -- and then agitating for the next volume in this planned trilogy. One of five leading Canadian books in sales now!
5. "The Beginner’s Goodbye," by Anne Tyler -- a bitter-sweet tracing of the arc of grief, remembrance and renewal that a flawed but thoughtful man endures when his wife is shockingly killed in a freak accident. Eventually, Aaron’s reaction is to decide Dorothy has returned from the dead -- so that they can work out the underlying tensions in their marriage. A moving and emotional book, written with a verve that keeps it lively and often humourous.
6. "Out of the Blue," by Jan Wong -- a harshly honest memoir by a noted Canadian journalist on how she was shattered by depression, and overcame her illness despite remarkable abuse by her employer. This is a memoir of courage, and a story of resistance in a world that is growing more vicious. Jan Wong has always written with powerful clarity. She continues to do so, even in recounting how her own life became so clouded and corroded.

Last year left vivid book memories for me -- here are 10 great reads that stick strongly in my mind:

1) Cat's Table, by Michael Ondaatje -- maybe the best novel I read during the year;

2) Half-Blood Blues, by Esi Edugyan -- the deserving Giller Prize winner, my favourite novel;

3) State of Wonder, by Ann Patchett, an imaginative environmental drama far up the Amazon in Brazil;

4) Room, by Emma Donoghue, a harrowing, fierce novel of kidnapped childhood in a single room;

5) Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese, evocative, emotional novel of Ethiopian childhood and immigration to America

6) The Witch of Babylon, by Dorothy McIntosh, best mystery/thriller of the year, with fine insights into the devastation inflicted in Iraq

7) Sanctuary Line, by Jane Urquhart, deeply contemplative story of family, passion, pain and death set in the Essex County I love

8) Native Speaker, by Chang-Rae Lee, his superb first novel, exploring the hubris of a Korean political boss in immigrant New York

9) The Water Man's Daughter, by Emma Ruby-Sachs, a fine first novel set in South African slums, with a probing take on the politics of water

10) Some Great Thing, by Lawrence Hill, his first novel (from 1992,) a hard-edged portrayal of being black in Winnipeg amidst tough political conflicts.