You, Kwaznievski, You Piss Me Off

R. Gordon Moyles is professor emeritus of English at the University of
Alberta. He is co-author of Imperial Dreams and Colonial Realities:
British Views of Canada, 1880–1914, author of The Salvation Army and
the Public, and editor of “Improved by Cult

“Police Sergeant Paul-Franзois Bastarache, 11th precinct, Montreal,
marvelled at how the buttery California sun transformed the flat
aluminum of the San Beunaventura police station into brushed gold, the
raspy stucco into thickening caramel. He monitored his gait closely, not
wanting the delight he felt to translate itself into an inappropriate,
an un-American lilt, looked Clint-eyed across the street and was struck
by a still more Californian apparition: A small, municipal park with
roaring plants whose leaves were so spiked and green they looked almost
as real as plastic. With Parisian benches. On one of which, directly
opposite, was seated a woman of indeterminate age, weathered,
over-bundled. Reading a thin book. Beside her a coffee-maker, through
which the morning sun ricocheted in sudden sparks.”

And so we are introduced to the first of Sergeant P-F’s many
astonishing investigative experiences, from Los Angeles (where he is
improving his English) to Montreal (where he needs no English, except
for the purposes of this book). We are also introduced to the equally
astonishing, and enjoyable, prose style of John Lavery. On one level
these are eight short fictions about police work—from unusual murders
to FLQ involvement, sex entanglements, and love affairs—and on
another, a more surreal level, the stories explore the boundaries of
human relationships, as much about what keeps people apart as what
brings them together. It is a fascinating exploration, and though, at
times, Lavery’s quirkiness will, I think, also “piss off” some
readers, the journey is well worth taking—even if only for the
roller-coaster ride of language and imagery.