What a treat it is to read stories that do not seek to reduce the complexity of our lives or the ambiguities of our relationships, intriguing stories that are profound without being heavy. There are eight stories here, some very short, others long, and all worth reading, pondering and then rereading.

Robyn Sarah
Is the author of several poetry collections, two collections of short stories, and a book of essays on poetry. Her works have appeared widely in Canada and the United States, in publications that include The Malahat Review, The New Quarterly, The Bedford Introduction to Literature, The Norton Anthology of Poetry, and Garrison Keillor's Good Poems for Hard Times. Widely recognized and anthologized, Robyn Sarah has won awards for each of the genres in which she works, including the 2015 Governor General's Literary Award for poetry and the CBC literary competition, also for poetry; a National Magazine Award, and the QSPELL award for the best English-language fiction written by a Qu�bec author. She lives in Montr�al.

Robyn Sarah's profile page

• Short-listed, Hugh MacLennan Prize

Robyn Sarah, who lives in Montreal, has published several volumes of poetry and a previous collection of short stories, A Nice Gazebo (1992). Her poet's sensibility is at work in her fiction, too, transforming the most ordinary occurrences into extraordinary moments. Something as mundane as repainting a kitchen table suddenly takes on significance as an act of renewal. Sarah can hypnotize you with the recounting of the most trivial, everyday events -- it's partly the tiny shocks of recognition of small, barely conscious thoughts or gestures that, at some level, you had assumed to be peculiarly your own. On the other hand, she can write of events that have a strong potential for melodrama -- suicide, mental breakdown, schizophrenia -- in a low-key, sometimes conversational tone that conveys the bizarre, but emphasizes the ordinariness in the midst of which the dramas occur. Unexpected flashes of black humour also keep the stories grounded.

Throughout the work, there is tension between the outer, physical world and the inner worlds of memory, imagination, and dream. 'Accept my story' circles the event at its centre, surrounding it with imagined versions of its occurrence, and with connected memories. Its structure could be compared to that of a mandala; the comparison probably comes to mind because there is a sense in which many of these stories are meditative. The most obvious case is 'Gabriel at My Left Hand', for it involves a journey up a mountain and an overnight vigil that is clearly also a meditation, one that promises a form of enlightenment, if only the two participants can grasp the moment. In 'Shelter', Holly remembers a dream she had had as a child in which she had thought herself utterly lost, but then had suddenly recognized familiar streets and realized that her grandmother's house was close by. 'In delight and gratitude she walked along in the feathery snow as if on air, making no sound, filled with peace at the beauty of the night and the nearness of safety. . She knew where she was going. She was nearly there.' Something more than the relief of finding home and family is implied; there is the suggestion of an ultimate 'shelter' and a sense of peace to be found. There are Zen-like qualities to these stories, in their spareness, and everydayness, as well as in their theme of homecoming. And like Zen tales, they stay with you long after they are told, teasing and puzzling the mind.'

Books in Canada

'What a treat it is to read stories that do not seek to reduce the complexity of our lives or the ambiguities of our relationships, intriguing stories that are profound without being heavy. There are eight stories here, some very short, others long, and all worth reading, pondering and then rereading.'

Prairie Fire