"The Shortest Distance Between Two Women" by Kris Radish

Published by Random House.

"I say just get over it. It's life, Emma, for God's sake. Suck it up." So says Susie Dell on page 119 of the novel, but Emma refuses to suck it up for at least a hundred more pages.

Emma Gilford is a boring woman who seems to have done absolutely nothing with her life or had any meaningful contact with anyone for at least twenty years, and one phone call from an old boyfriend is enough to throw her over the edge. She starts to question her boring existence, her wussy attitude, and, well, not much else because she's been under a rock for so long. She refuses to do anything interesting for the entirety of the novel, unless you're into complaining and blaming everyone else for one's own problems. The novel picks up near the end, when the action focuses on the more interesting characters; but told through the dishwater voice of Emma Gilford, it's not enough to make this worth reading.

Throughout the novel Emma whines about how her sisters mistreated her as a child, and I think to myself, "You're in your forties. Get over it already. Grow a bloody spine." She makes a big deal out of tiny tasks she's expected to do for a big family reunion, like make a reservation at a park and pick up plates at the store, and I say, "Really? Just fucking do it." I wonder how Emma Gilford could waste so much of her time not doing what she's supposed to do to plan this party, then complaining about it, then complaining about the fact that she's expected to do it. And I wonder why I'm wasting my time reading about it. (But at least I did manage to get around to it.)

Throughout the novel is the question of whether Emma will ever get together with Samuel, her once-boyfriend who ran off to Nicaragua to do some botany. He calls and calls but never makes an appearance. He just provides more fodder for Emma to engage in reminiscent self-reflection that leads to more self-pity and whining. I was hoping that by the end of the novel, something actually interesting would happen, but no. The moment we are intended to take as the turning point between old boring Emma and new, less sedentary Emma (though probably still boring) is at the very end where she is about to call him. Which means, of course, that the reader is never provided access to anything but boring, whiny, adolescent Emma who, were I ever to meet her, would certainly be on my "Do Not Invite" list for parties.

"Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith

Published by Raincoast Books.

This is the classic novel by Jane Austen (which I'd never had the urge to read), now with zombies. The story revolves around the Bennetts, specifically Elizabeth Bennett and her four sisters, all zombie fighting machines of the highest class, trained by Master Liu at a Shaolin Temple in China. We follow Elizabeth, whose prejudice against Mr. Darcy compels her to at first reject his advances; Mr. Darcy learns a thing or two about having too much pride, and redeems himself.

Longbourn and the surrounding area (I'm not sure how far this extends) has been infested with zombies (referred to as "unmentionables"). Where any traveling takes place in the novel, we can be assured there will be a zombie fight scene. The zombies, while adding action and excitement, don't seem to play too much of a role in altering the general progression of the book. At most times, the zombie addition fits in well with the novel. The only point where zombie-ism was infused to greater effect was with regard to the plight of poor Charlotte, Elizabeth's best friend, who became infected and strove to marry quickly so as to spend her last months in relative comfort. Many references to "the bride's condition" would lead me to assume that in the original work, she was pregnant rather than a zombie. In this version, however, other characters (besides Charlotte, whose training allows her to recognize the signs quite early on) barely notice that by the time Elizabeth goes to visit her in her new home, Charlotte is at least three quarters dead and conducts herself in an odd, zombie-ish manner. This by no means detracts from the story; rather, it's a very funny situation indeed.

My only complaint towards this version is that Grahame-Smith's commitment toward the zombie plot seems to wane toward the end. The last hundred pages contain very few zombies. Since the zombies are the point of buying this version, I'd have to say this is a problem that should have been addressed. Nevertheless, the previous zombie plot provides the necessary backing for a final battle between Elizabeth and Darcy's aunt. I would have enjoyed more explicit alterations directly related to zombies, comparable to earlier scenes, such as when a ball the sisters are attending is overrun with unmentionables, or the scene describing the demise of Bingley's kitchen staff.

Still, if you've never read "Pride and Prejudice", this book will provide you with what seem to be the most important elements of the original (the plight of a bunch of sisters who just want to get married to any male who makes an appearance), along with some zombies. Both authors' contributions are entertaining, if not (for reasons cited earlier) completely balanced.

"The World Bank: A Critical Primer" by Eric Toussaint

Published by Between The Lines.

"The World Bank: A Critical Primer" is critical, yes, primer, maybe. The book reports atrocities the bank has committed since its founding and attempts to prove through these that the bank itself has a policy of committing atrocities and therefore must be abolished. If we ignore the the fact that generalizing from specific examples is a no-no, it's pretty convincing. Toussaint reports instance after instance of how the World Bank has, under the guise of being an institution dedicated to helping underdeveloped countries, used its influence (i.e., its money) to instate policies in countries to make them suitable environments in which U.S. corporations can turn large profits, to the detriment of the countries' citizens. Toussaint includes statistics showing the hefty profits of the bank, while the countries to which it lends struggle to pay back ever-increasing loans, the majority of which seem to end up in the pockets of politicians. The book seems to divided somewhat chronologically, with chapters on specific examples of bad banking, specific presidents and economists at the bank, some generalizing argumentative chapters, and some tracking the bank's activities over large spans of time (oh yes, there are graphs).

The book is well-researched and well-referenced and, while critical throughout, does not generally extend its criticism beyond the scope of what's been shown to be true through example. For instance, if reporting an instance where the bank has granted a loan on the condition that essential services are privatized (causing costs to citizens to skyrocket), Toussaint may criticize the bank for prioritizing the benefits of corporations over citizens. In the chapter on the bank's treatment of human rights, for example, Toussaint argues that the bank tends toward the policy of upholding negative rights only (though I don't think he uses that term), meaning that the rights of the citizens are such that the only responsibility of others to uphold those rights is not to interfere with their property (i.e., the kind of rights advantageous to corporations), while the bank has no regard for a positive right, which would include the rights to water, food, shelter, etc. (i.e., the kind of rights that allow for happy, alive citizens).

It seemed a little odd to attribute human characteristics to the bank itself, e.g., the bank acts in this way, the bank shows this preference, the bank likes to eat kittens, etc., and my initial tendency would be to find that individual who was responsible. But it seems the individuals responsible are anyone with any policy-making power at the bank, and it's much easier to simply refer to "The Bank" rather than "that bunch of jerks".

While the point of the book is clear throughout (kill the bank), the text is difficult to read in parts if the reader, like myself, has no prior knowledge of economic terms (besides the very common ones) and if, like myself, cannot immediately commit to memory the meanings of the scores of acronyms strewn throughout the book.

This book, while not perfect, has made a valiant attempt to back up its criticisms with thorough research, and has, in my opinion, succeeded in proving that there is something wrong with the system.

"To Whom It May Concern" by Priscila Uppal

Published by Doubleday Canada

Uppal has written, with To Whom It May Concern, a particular kind of work which incites an intellectual rather than a visceral response, a novel that provides a sophisticated and intricate analysis of four family members, each of whom is presented in a manner singularly appropriate to relaying some insight, but about whom I could not give a damn.

The novel is impressive in its meticulous construction of a reality in which the Dange family resides. That is, it is exactly what I would expect from a scholar of English literature. This necessarily leads to a distinction between the scholar and the artist, the artist being that creature whose art is the result of some inspiration, who is more likely to describe his or her work as having a life of its own, of existing prior to its being concretized in the material novel. The work that the artist produces gives the reader a sense of something beyond, of encompassing the reader in itself, of leading him or her along the path which the artist his or herself followed in its creation, of engaging him or her in a natural logic beyond the mundane. In short, this novel brings up the plethora of discussion surrounding the difference between artistic gift and technical aptitude. While it is astounding in its technical proficiency, it fails to convey that something which is the difference between the work of art and the skilled reproduction. There is no hint here of the author’s intention.

The book centres around the various struggles of Hardev Dange and his three children, Emile, Birendra and Dorothy. Hardev is a partial quadriplegic intent on keeping his house despite the new developers’ plans for the neighbourhood. Emile discovers his attraction for his good friend Mohab. Birendra is getting married and, despising the idea of having children, covertly undergoes a tubal ligation. Dorothy is the youngest at 17 and deaf. While I enjoyed her story the most, I would not credit any real 17 year old with her characteristics (most notably her grammar, but also her tendency to create metaphoric names for herself and other objects). These characters’ stories co-mingle in the sense that certain life events lead them to similar conclusions regarding life and human psychology as perceived by Uppal.

I am certain that there are a great many people who will respond to this novel. I would recommend it highly to fans of James Joyce, but not to those who prefer Dostoevsky. Personally, I’m in the latter camp.

"Apologize, Apologize!" by Elizabeth Kelly

Published by Knopf Canada.

The subtitle reads "A Novel About a Family That Puts the Personality in Disorder". The first half of the novel seems to be about the "personality", and the second the "disorder". At first this novel seems to be about the Flanagan family and all their little quirks. While they seem lovable in that quirky kind of way, the reader can also discern an undertone of discord. The story is told from the viewpoint of the oldest son, Collie (named after the dog by his mother). Collie is by far the most average character of the novel, and he struggles to understand the rest of the Flanagan family from the standpoint of sanity. At times it seems the other characters are black boxes to Collie, like he doesn't understand the logic behind their actions any better than we do. At other times it's clear that he has at least become habituated to their strangeness. The reader can see that the characters, whom we might call eccentric and interesting were we unaffiliated with them, are at the same time alienating to a young boy (Collie at the beginning of the book, with whom the reader empathizes).

Around the middle of the novel tragedy strikes. To explain the story would be a disservice to future readers, as this passage is one of the most affecting of the novel. After so many pages of lightheartedness (strained, though it may be), Kelly manages to foreshadow disaster and express a great loss in one short series of events that seems both inevitable and unjust. We continue to follow Collie as he attempts to deal with the events, with minimal support from his strange and occasionally hostile family. By the end of the novel, he seems reconciled to the other Flanagans, but the reader isn't sure whether it's a harmonious reconciliation or whether Collie is admitting defeat.

The high-energy existence the Flanagans exhibit is reflected in Kelly's style of writing, peppered with internal references and metaphors that keep the reader at attention. I couldn't help but feel involved with this book, these characters. Reading this reminded me of the days when I only read classic, historically tested literature. Very highly recommended.

"Something Drastic" by Colleen Curran

Published by Goose Lane.

I have a lot of good things and one bad thing to say about this novel. The writing is fun and energetic, and the characters are interesting and well-developed; but while the premise is original and could potentially provide fodder for much more hilarity, it’s difficult to maintain for the entire book.

From the back of the novel: “Lenore Rutland’s boyfriend of nearly eight years dumps her on Boxing Day and sneaks off to Florida.” The novel is a collection of letters written from Lenore to her departed boyfriend, who not once responds. In the beginning, this format adds a lot. I’m thinking particularly of Lenore’s list (in the first letter) of “List of Why I Think You Left Montreal.” This list is a hilarious expression of Lenore’s grief at the parting of her boyfriend. Though he never responds, Lenore learns further of her former boyfriend’s mischief through fraudulent credit card charges, investigation, and scumbags showing up at her door. The letters in which Lenore is directly addressing Fergie (John Ferguson, the runaway boyfriend) are undoubtedly the best parts of the novel.

There are many other letters, however, in which Lenore merely reports what she’s done recently, who she’s met, things that have happened, etc., and these letters defy explanation as to why she isn’t just keeping a journal. She does compare her letters to a journal at one point (excusing herself for continuing writing after he’s failed to respond for months), so the question stands: why doesn’t she just do that? This is where I think a little inconsistency in style (who says the novel has to be entirely in letter form?) would benefit the work as a whole.

The problem with making Lenore do something not as believable as it could be detracts from her character just a tad, and she’s quite the character. Throughout the novel she clips articles from the Montreal Gazette to send along with her letters to Fergie, explaining how they apply to him. For example, “Bear Tries to Eat Man’s Head” is a lesson to Fergie that men shouldn’t be mean without expecting retaliation. You can feel both her anger at his parting and her repression of that anger (usually through humour) throughout the novel.

So, my advice to literature seekers would be to get this novel, to read it, and to not get too hung up on the letter format. It only causes over-analysis.

"The Darren Effect" by Libby Creelman

Published by Goose Lane.

Heather is grieving her recently deceased lover, Benny, when she goes on a mission with her sister Mandy to spy on Mandy’s old roommate, Darren (her sister is planning to write something about lost chances). Meanwhile, Benny’s widow (Isabella) has just moved in across the street from Darren. Heather and Darren eventually get together, and Darren and Isabella become friends. Their lives are not really intertwined, per se, but they do all come together near the end (at a barbecue).

The plot, however, does not seem to be the focal point of this novel (and I say that with surprise and delight). Most of what happens does more to reveal character than it does to drag the reader along some meaningless string of events towards an inevitable conclusion⎯sorry, I’ve been reading a lot of pop chick lit lately. Creelman’s characters are already in the midst of living their lives when the reader comes in. Her style is immediately engaging and gives the characters depth.

They’re also quite funny at times, but I find it hard to agree with the “devastatingly funny novel” claim on the back of the book. There is definitely humour in it, but it’s the kind of humour that only unhappy people seem to get. Overall, Darren lives with a demanding, paranoid sister, has an odd neighbour and somebody following him around; Heather loses her lover and almost her feet as she stalks Darren (and, oh yeah, she’s pregnant with her dead lover’s baby); and Isabella has a shopping addiction, a weird son, a dead unfaithful husband, and a smelly house due to an incontinent dog. If the reader isn’t used to finding humour in those kinds of situations (i.e., if they live in a bubble full of happy gas—you know the type), he or she probably won’t get the jokes. I laughed when Heather asked Darren if the Bruce Effect had ever been observed in humans. The Bruce effect is the tendency towards reabsorbing a fetus if the mother is exposed to a new male. That is, Heather is exposed to Darren and wonders (hopefully, it seems) whether it’s possible for the baby to be reabsorbed (in the third trimester, no less).

Overall, The Darren Effect is engaging; the reader is driven forward with interesting characters that one is eager to learn more about. Reading the book is like being gradually let into their lives, each interaction or reminiscence providing insight into their psyches. The great thing about it is that they do seem to actually have psyches; they’re realistic to the point where the reader assumes a life leading up to the point where the novel begins, and one that continues after it ends.