Distance

Hodgins is a skillful writer, and he's in top form here. The dialog is excellent, as are the character potrayals, and the descriptive passages are both compelling in their own right, anchoring the reader into scenes with a vivid sense of physical immediacy, and in terms of the way landscape echoes and refracts the protagonist's sensibility and changing pyschological states. This is not an easy book. The relationship of the protagonist to his father is shot through with pain, a pain that is all the more excruciating for the reader because it is so resonant. But in the end this is a rewarding and redemptive read. It is an intimate story painted in bold colors, with a bigger heart than alot of the psychologically minimalist fiction coming out these days. Highly recommended!

Unlike the common run of North American writers, Jack Hodgins' vistas are unconfined by borders, real or imaginary. His book on writing fiction, A Passion for Narrative, is among the finest of the genre. It is unique in its consideration of Pacific Rim writing. His latest novel, Distance, exhibits his extended outlook brilliantly. "Distance" can impart many meanings and Hodgins weaves geographical and personal themes here with his usual skill. "Distance" may be narrowed, and the issues of personal reconciliation and defining "home" are important ones in this book. We follow Sonny Aalto from Ottawa to Vancouver Island, then across the Pacific. There's even a side journey to the woods of Finland, his family's origins. The journey confronts us with Sonny's family. "Confront" is fraught with meaning, since Sonny's interactions with his family are tense and acerbic. Pleasant words don't often appear and "dislike" is the mildest epithet available. Yet the hostility is tempered with another side to all the characters. Family life, no matter how conflict-filled, still carries an undercurrent of mutual respect and tenderness. Sonny, who has strenuously resisted communicating with his father while seeking closer ties with his own children, is induced to return home. Why is Sonny so frequently on the move? He's spent a lifetime edging eastward, following various careers, seeking his children. He travels incessantly - ruined cathedrals, shrines to pagan gods, remote villages. The driving force is his father, Timo - "Swampy" Aalto. Abandoned by his wife Viira, Timo, quite unprepared for the role, becomes a single parent. In a remote corner of Vancouver Island, missing part of a leg, and virtually unemployable, he resents the role and his life. Sonny is either left to his own devices or forced to clean up after Timo's drunken debauches with whichever women will tolerate him. Leaving home wasn't a hard decision for Sonny. Once departed, he just never stopped. Ottawa is his latest refuge - "he wanted to belong" . Will it be his last?Skating the Rideau Canal on one of Ottawa's notorious February days, Sonny is confronted by a stranger claiming to be his brother. "Believe me, mate. I would not risk frozen gonads for a prank!" Jerrod has travelled half way around the planet to deliver an invitation: come to Australia and visit his mother. And shoot boar - they kill sheep. Sonny demurs. He hasn't used a rifle in thirty years. Far more significantly, he's uncertain how to deal with his long-vanished mother. Lured to Victoria by his ailing father, the island continent beckons. Timo, who has his own reasons to confront Viira, endorses the journey. Crippled, seriously ill, he embraces the idea of the adventure. Timo as a travelling companion is compounding risk.Family relationships, especially those dominated by confrontation, make compelling reading. Sonny has inherited his father's tendency to steer away from family ties - his son is "