In the third story from the end of Gil Adamson’s short story collection Help Me, Jacques Cousteau, Hazel, our valiant explorer and protagonist, admits that she has a terrible memory:  “I can’t remember anything in its right order, and I rarely know if it’s a memory or just something I heard somewhere.” It’s a common failing, I would think, our pasts clouded by time, by stories, by dreams and imaginings all swirling around in the depths of our consciousness. Just as on the playful and evocative cover, it’s like being under water, peering into the murky waters, searching for those brief moments when a errant ray of light temporarily clears the shadows. And it seems to me that each story in this collection, which ranges from Hazel being a few years old to her being in her late teens, is just that: those illuminated memories that we carry with us, for better or for worse.

Through Hazel’s sharp observation (it is genius for Hazel to be wearing a snorkel mask on the cover) that we are initiated into the particular miseries of her dysfunctional family. She watches as her parents grow apart, and her father spends more and more time rewiring their home in a oblique attempt to rekindle a spark, for as he explains to his daughter when he tells her about lightning, “Like any current two sides must connect or nothing happens.” For this is a family at disconnects: her brother temporarily stops speaking, her grandparents bicker, her uncle womanizes, Hazel turns to casual sex.

But while a story about disconnects could be barren, Adamson’s stories are anything but. Nothing particularly extraordinary happens in any of the stories, but Adamson presents vivid images, each rendered with precise and evocative word choice and a remarkable instinct for rhythm that makes every line a pleasure to read. I’ll quote at length her description of a child’s experience of the Canadian winter:

“… a whole world of children waddling around in torturous, unbending snowsuits. A world of sleds and snow and slush and ice balls down the back of my neck and soggy knees and the maddening zzt-zzt of nylon snow pants; the throttle of wool scarves, yanked tight by my mother and impossible to claw open; the stink of cloakrooms, the multicoloured Popsicle look of cold feet and the shrieking pangs while they thaw…”

Her metaphors are  spot on, with such gems such as a newborn baby with “toes like corn niblets,” or wedding-goers with coats over their formal gear: “We hurry along the road in the snow, looking like an assortment of bonbons in frilly wrappings.”

The characters in this collection of short stories are also collectors of stories: they  savour the peccadilloes and eccentricities of their neighbours. Hazel watches them with binoculars, her mother remembers all the details, her father strikes up random conversations, encouraging strangers to disclose their secrets. For as Hazel concludes,  “It’s a relief to find out how warped other people are.”

And that is one of the principal pleasures of this collection, to see one’s own familial dysfunction reflected in the waters of Hazel’s memories. But Adamson takes it even further, allowing Hazel to eventually appreciate her family’s own particular brand of dysfunction. In the final story, Hazel is mired in a hellish family dinner, and she experiences a flickering moment of tenderness for her family: “I think: wouldn’t it be nice if we all died suddenly, without hurting, without knowing anything had happened, and went on as ghosts, having dinner and arguing and never growing old?” And when the plum cake ignites into a startling pillar of flame, Hazel experiences a moment which will forever be illuminated in the murky depths of memory, a moment of chaos and togetherness, of both love and madness, and she sees her family more clearly than ever before, “with light pouring out, bright as a flash.”

Fans of Adamson’s hit historical novel The Outlander may initially be taken aback expecting a more plot-driven narrative, but  the interconnected short stories allow a more novelistic feel, and hopefully after a couple of Adamson’s offbeat, perceptive and often humorous tales, readers will find themselves once again captivated, poised like Andrew in “Heaven Is a Place That Starts with H,” “holding onto the dashboard with both hands, pressing his face to the glass.”

Many thanks to Trish at House of Anansi for adding this quirky and vibrant read to my collection.

*Trumpets and Fanfare*

And the Canada Reads 2010 selections and their champions are:

• Good to a Fault, by Marina Endicott. Championed by professional broadcaster Simi Sara.
• Fall on Your Knees, by Ann-Marie MacDonald. Championed by Olympic track star  Perdita Felicien.
• The Jade Peony, by Wayson Choy. Championed by physician and humanitarian Samantha Nutt.
• Generation X, by Douglas Coupland. Championed by rapper/poet Roland Pemberton.
• Nikolski, by Nicolas Dickner, trans. Lazer Lederhendler. Championed by author Michel Vézina.

Now my knee-jerk reactions to the picks, champions, and initial pitches:

I’ll admit, though I own Good to a Fault, I keep eyeing it suspiciously. I think it has to do with the cover, which though some people love, I just loathe. It looks overly wholesome to me, reeking of whole grains from the prairies (I should be over this old bias by now, but apparently, I’m not). It looks like something you SHOULD read rather than something you’d want to. That said, I’ll probably eat those words later, but that’s just my gut instinct. Also, one of last year’s Giller nominees? Bor-ing. But believe radio broadcasters have the potential to make great advocates, so we’ll see.

I was thrilled to see Fall on Your Knees get some love, since it’s probably my favourite Canadian novel, though of course it doesn’t exactly need another platform. After the Commonwealth Prize, the Giller shortlist, and the “Golden O” seal of approval, it got major international recognition. So while my heart ’s with this one, I’d like to see something that had less exposure take the prize. I was pretty disappointed with Perdita’s 30-second pitch. It’s not about how you liked it, it’s about how other people will. Where are the awards, the stats, the visceral reaction? My one-line pitch for this book? “It’s like getting repeatedly kicked in the stomach and still begging for more.”

I know very little about The Jade Peony, but from reading the synopsis I think I’d enjoy it. I’ve read very little Chinese-Canadian history beyond last year’s CR panelist Jen Sookfong Lee’s The End of East, so I think reading this book will feel like a fresh experience. I also think Samantha Nutt is going to be a formidable debater, and for that reason alone, I can see Good to a Fault sticking around.

I’ve read a few Coupland novels, but never the one that started it all. I found Coupland’s next to-last offering The Gum Thief to be a little bit of a retread of his other work, so it’ll be interesting to go back to his first success. I’ve never heard of Roland Pembleton or his alter-ego Cadence Weapon, but I thought his initial pitch was fairly eloquent. Certainly it’s nice to see something more modern and off-beat in the mix, even if it is still “iconically canadian.”

As for Nikolski, I don’t know anything about the author or the book. But last year’s french offering proved to be fresh and enjoyable, and a dark horse favorite among readers. As for Vezina, he can breathe fire. Being part dragon could help when things get heated (There it is, the first bad joke of the competition!)

And on the choices as a whole? Some good books, some well-known authors, but no big surprises, and I would have liked to see more small press representation — this kind of competition makes the biggest difference to them. All of the books are also fairly recent, the earliest book published in 1991 (GenX). All the books were bestsellers/and or award winners. Solid choices, but safe choices. But the panelists are lively and have diverse backgrounds, and as the reveal approached, my little heart was a-racing. So March still can’t come fast enough.

Now, my two cents aside, here are some things you can do to make your Canada Reads 2010 experience exponentially more exciting:

1. Get the books. You can get them for a deal from the CBC, or from any major bookseller, or from your friendly neighbourhood bibliotheque.
2. Read ‘em. (All of them.)
3. Review ‘em. Do it on your blog and leave links here or just add comments to other people’s posts. And if you’re a blogger, join the Canada Reads Reading Challenge over at Roughin’ It in the Books, a wicked review site run by two courageous women reading the NCL start to finish (or start to exhaustion). It’s good fun, and a great place to discuss as well!(@RIITB)
4. Follow the coverage at the CBC Book Club and on the Canada Reads site. Since Hannah Sung’s gone on a vacay, it’s being temporarily hosted by the brilliant and inimitable Julie Wilson of Seen Reading and Book Madam fame (@BookMadam). It’s bound to knock your wooly winter socks off. The CBC also does a great job collecting bonus content like interviews and the sweet video testimonial (which I dearly hope will make a return this year), and has active forums for discussion. But, y’know, you could come here too.

Also, if you couldn’t get to the reception in the CBC atrium today, check out the tweets from Erin Balser @booksin140. It’s the next best thing to being there! Thanks, Erin!

So, what are people’s initial thoughts on the choices? Any you’re looking forward to or dreading?

It’s getting to be the time of year where the days are colder, darker, and shorter, and there are so few things to look forward to until spring. Luckily, one of them approaches! It’s almost Canada Reads time again!

The panelists and their choices will be announced Tuesday, December 1st. If you’re in the Toronto area, you can even go to a neat-o launch event in the atrium of the CBC building (250 Front St. West). It’s a nice event with the authors and panelists with and a good taste of what’s to come.

This year I’ll be reading all the books again and blogging about them, and then posting daily recaps (with my own editorial) as the competition unfolds. I had a fantastic time last year and was really pleased to see all the great debate that happened on this site and elsewhere.

Missed last year’s coverage or the five great books? The Canada Reads 2009 tag in the right side bar is a good start! For winners from previous years, there’s a full chart on Wikipedia.

Get ready to read, Canada! Coverage starts at the KIRBC December 1st.