Book Reviews

“What The Living Do” by Susan Wadds

 

There is no question in my mind as to why Susan Wadd’s debut novel, “What The Living Do,” was a finalist for a Canadian Book Club Awards.

Indeed, Wadds’ subtle wit, which she layers between raw, fast-paced prose, emotional upheaval, and bumpy relationships, is akin to a train ready to go off life’s tracks at the first sign of trouble.

Embedded against the familiar backdrop of a freezing cold Ontario landscape, Wadd invites readers to ride shotgun through a series of thirty-seven-year-old Brett Catlin’s tumultuous life events.

Indeed, Wadd does a magnificent job of burnishing the two-sides of Brett. We have the tender maintenance worker who, along with her partner, Mel, (a man of few words who nonetheless seems to sense Brett’s struggles), ride the roads looking for roadkill, creatures which she buries with empathy and kindness.

Which is not to say Brett doesn’t know how to manipulate what she doesn’t want to manage, using her feminine wiles and sexual tools to resolve any issues that come up between her and her ten-years-younger boyfriend Cole – he of the tight red-brown curls and warm caramel eyes that are flecked with bits of dark chocolate.  Cole, it must be noted, is quite smitten and happily willing to capitulate to Brett – until he isn’t.

Wadd’s craft in developing characters that readers connect with and deeply care about is expertly honed. We feel sorry for Brett’s best friend, Norah, who desperately wants a child but is tragically unsuccessful, not to mention resentful of the fact Brett had a therapeutic abortion which Norah likens to murder.  We also go through emotional fits of frustration with Brett, who seemingly wants to understand where Norah is coming from but gives off all the wrong signals.

“I mean, shouldn’t one be able to push up feelings as simply as women push up their breasts?”

When Brett is diagnosed with cervical cancer, the essence of Wadd’s storyline – human emotions- becomes a roller coaster vortex of fear, denial, rejection, and grief.

And within this swirl we come to know the tragic details of Brett’s childhood, the heartbreaking deaths of her father and younger sister, the secrets of Aunt June, the sexual inappropriateness of an older cousin, internal and external scars which resoundingly impact a young child for life, both physically and emotionally.

Happily, Wadds does not leave us feeling fraught with the sadnesses buried beneath the surface of Brett’s very being.

Instead, she offers up a replenished and newly hopeful Brett, one who is inspired by Mel’s Indigenous spiritual practices and offerings so that she can, “ask her feet to dance.”

Fast paced, with brilliantly developed characters and resonant dialogue, Wadds is the kind of delightful narrator who is a “must follow” storyteller.

 

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