Reviewed by Matthew Firth

Len Gasparini is an under-appreciated Canadian writer. After approximately thirty-five years of writing and publishing, he should be held up as a national literary treasure but he is not. Gasparini remains on the margins, too salty for mainstream success and acceptance. Take these lines from his short story "The Undertaker’s Wife" in his collection of the same name as an example:

And then she was sitting on the edge of the narrow bed. And soon they were kissing. He hiked her dress above her hips and was happily surprised to see she had no panties on. With his middle finger he fondled her cunt. She was as slick and wet as a peeled plum.

This could be Carver. Or Bukowski. Or maybe Leonard Cohen, an estranged Canadian and the only big-name Canuck I can think of who would write something similarly powerful. But this sample is also pure Gasparini through-and-through. The excerpt shows how he mixes blunt-edged prose ("he fondled her cunt") with poetry ("as slick and wet as a peeled plum") seamlessly. Gasparini’s new collection is chock full this type of high-grade writing.

I can think of no other Canadian writer who evokes a broader emotional range than Gasparini. Across the sixteen stories in The Undertaker’s Wife Gasparini hits on lust, racism, rage, drugs, poverty, ugly ethnic stereotyping, deceit, despair and depression but also compassion, care, humour, down-to-earth friendship, empathy and consideration. This range is often explored within a single story. "The Rememberers", for example, centres on a bunch of thirty-something mates who happen upon each other in a social club in Windsor. Old rivalries and jealousies are bandied about, which sometimes turn distasteful as more beer is swallowed. But at the same time, the roots that connect the characters force them to acknowledge what they share: similar moments of remembered joy, such as playing on the same baseball team or having shagged the same girl in high school. On the surface, such recollections might seem juvenile but that is precisely the era Gasparini explores in this perspicacious story about memory and bonds.

Gasparini is also technically proficient. Consider this opening paragraph from the book’s first story:

I turned twenty-one the day I graduated from boot camp at the naval training centre in San Diego, California. It was a sunny July day. My recruit company and others took part in a full parade, with a band, colour guard, and a special company carrying the flags of all fifty states. The usual U.S. military hoopla à la John Philip Sousa. Instead of a "skinhead" recruit, I was a seaman apprentice. The first distinguishing mark I had consisted of two diagonal navy blue stripes on the left sleeve of my service dress whites. But more important, on completion of training and before transfer to a duty station, I was granted a leave of two weeks. Of course I went home.

Every sentence flows smoothly into the next. Sentence structure varies. Detail is revealed. Context is set. Character is established and intrigue is summoned in the final short sentence. Gasparini has the reader in his clutches after just a few lines. Intrigue is also called up because the story begins on an American naval base. Readers might wonder at this seemingly strange pushing off point for a story by a Canadian writer. But reading the entire collection reveals that Gasparini – a native of Windsor, Ontario – writes about well-travelled characters open to a wide variety of experiences, something the conclusion of this first story – "Frank and Millie" – re-enforces. Furthermore, Windsor is relevant to this story. It’s a border-town, a blurry blend of Canadian, American and immigrant cultures. Gasparini draws on these sources many times in the half-dozen or so stories set in and around Windsor. His working class background also helps clear his vision, arming him with a voice that tells it like it is and avoids bullshit. He is a writer of courage. If Gasparini wants to call a cunt a cunt, he will. But he is not artless – recall the softening imagery of the inside of fresh fruit.

If you have not read Gasparini before, grab this book and celebrate its craftsmanship, diversity and muscle.

Matthew Firth is co-editor of Front&Centre. His most recent book is Suburban Pornography and Other Stories (Anvil Press). He lives in Ottawa.