When Things Get Worst

Bruce Meyer teaches English at Trinity College, University of Toronto.

Barry Callaghan has a knack for getting inside the heads of his
characters, for understanding—with empathy and even grandeur—the
complexities of individual voice, identity, and outlook.

When Things Get Worst is the world seen through the eyes of a young
rural Southwestern Ontario girl. Her vision of life, as narrated in a
stunning and rambling stream-of-consciousness cum dramatic monologue, is
part theological argument and part aphoristic wisdom; it is the story of
an individual who is constantly trying to come to terms with the reality
of a perplexing, harsh, and absurd world.

With Faulknerian verve and cadence, Callaghan tells the girl’s story
in the rhythms and patterns of Ontario dialect—the long-ignored speech
patterns and cultural idioms that lie at the heart of anglo-Canadian
literature. Not for the faint of heart; but with a particularly
fatalistic humor (e.g., “The more you do the more you know there’s
nothing to be done”), Callaghan captures the darkly gothic side of
rural Ontario—the world that lies just beyond the visions of Alice
Munro, James Reaney, and Timothy Findley.