Downwind

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

“The only reason for the existence of a novel,” wrote Henry James, “is that it does attempt to represent life.” The attempt resides not so much in merely offering a plausible set of probable events, but in making the novel itself become a “living thing.” Downwind is, by and large, a lifeless thing. The attempt is perhaps laudable: a story about the conflict caused by the construction of a nuclear reactor in Nova Scotia, its impact on personal relationships, its inevitable disruption of community life, and the possibility/impossibility of fighting government bureaucracy seems an exciting one. But Lesley Choyce has failed to invest it with life, with human interest, either through conflict or drama. The characters are insipid, garrulous, and dull; they are, in fact, pretentiously boring. The language of the novel is cliché-ridden and the metaphors unoriginal. How long can a reader endure such triteness?

the typesetter sounded like interstellar communication he pounded out each letter like he was firing a machine gun letting paranoia grow like choking weeds inside him.

For ultimately it is the language which creates the life: plot, no matter how ingenious, fails when the words lose their power to evoke images and feelings.

I am willing to concede, however, that mine might be too extreme a denunciation. Perhaps, knowing that Downwind was the winner of The Writer’s Federation of Nova Scotia Literary Competition, some readers might wish to disprove my view by reading the book for themselves. That I would heartily encourage.