Mount Appetite

Matt Hartman is a freelance editor and cataloguer, running Hartman Cataloguing, Editing and Indexing Services.

B.C. writer Bill Gaston’s first collection of fiction, Deep Cove
Stories, was full of exciting promise, promise now realized with Mount
Appetite. His imaginative skill has reached levels hinted at in previous
books, most notably in the astonishing range and breadth of his
characters. Gaston’s youthful penchant for description at the expense
of dialogue has all but disappeared, to be replaced by an excellent ear
for rhythms, dialects, and sensibilities. There is, for example, the
halting cadences of the Maritime faith healer, Mr. Oates, as he lays
hands on an old women: “Okay, den, he whispered, more to himself than
to her. Let’s see what ya have dere.” There is the wisecracking
jargon of Tyson, the junkie nephew of the protagonist in “The Little
Drug Addict that Could,” who manipulates his uncle into handing over

his car.

Many of the dozen stories have appeared previously, some in the earlier
anthology, others in little magazines. The send-up of Malcolm Lowry,
“A Forest Path,” is a reworking of an earlier piece that appeared in
Deep Cove Stories as “A Forest Path to Malcolm’s.” One of the best
pieces is the sardonically named “Comedian Tire,” in which a series
of screw-ups at Canada’s most visible mechanical establishment leads
to some seriocomic events.

Gaston’s writing has always exhibited a strong sense of place,
whether the setting is rural or urban. The title story, “Mount
Appetite,” is different in that it takes the form of a series of
e-mails from a father who has seen his autistic daughter taken from him.
The postings are directed to the psychologist who testified for the
state in the custody case. They are an attempt at justification—an
intelligent and determined attempt to explain why father and daughter
should be reunited.

Gaston has some novels to his credit (Bella Combe Journal, The Good
Body), but shorter fiction is where he excels.