Late Nights on Air [Deckle Edge] [Paperback]

The story takes place in 1975 and centers round the staff of CFYK. Harry Boyd, a veteran announcer with a questionable past, overhears Dido Paris reading the news and immediately falls for her. Sharp-tongued and self-consumed, Dido ignores Harry and instead hooks up with Eddy, the intense radio technician who is radically inclined and sexually sadistic. At the same time Dido is possibly involved with Eleanor Dew, the station secretary and a reawakened Christian, who is eventually pursued by Ralph Cody, a bibliophile and nature photographer. And finally there is newcomer Gwen Symon who, incompetent at first but with hidden capabilities, is strongly attracted to the distracted Harry. These complications evolve against the backdrop of the station's daily operations and a variety of local events, notably the Mackenzie Pipeline Project inquiry. Matters come to a head when (in the novel's strongest segment) Gwen, Harry, Ralph, and Eleanor travel together to the inhospitable Barrens, retracing the route of 19th-century explorer John Hornby.

Hay is in no hurry to rush her characters along. Each is gradually revealed through conversation, reminiscences, and various idiosyncrasies. Gwen is one of her favourites, and, bit by bit, we learn she that fell in love with radio because it was her only entertainment when she was bed-ridden as a child, that her mother was cheap, that her father was a jeweler and inattentive parent, that she doubts herself constantly yet is appealingly persistent. Our initial impression of helplessness turns to admiration and affection by tale's end.

This suggestion that initial impressions may be misleading is one that Hay plays with throughout the novel. A voice on air creates a picture in the listener's imagination, yet the personality behind the voice may be substantially different. The same principle applies to people in general: Dido's success seems guaranteed, Gwen appears to be eternally maladroit, Ralph and Eleanor seem destined for each other, but our initial assumptions are proven false. Even the landscape can inspire one set of ideas which a close investigation will reveal as somewhat illusory--the north's superficial ice and snow contain a plethora of lichens and flowers.

Yellowknife itself seems remote and familiar. On the one hand, the main characters are in some sense predictable: they are white, middle-class, educated types who would be as comfortable in a Toronto Starbucks as they are in the Arctic. At the same time, the wilderness always hovers in the background, as do the mysterious Dene. The area seems removed in time. Occasionally, a reference to the era breaks in--Neil Young's "Helpless," the Beatles, Vietnam, Last Tango in Paris--but it is sometimes hard to dispel the impression that we are back in an age when radio ruled the world.

The novel does contain some imperfections. While the characterisation is generally strong, Thomas Berger, the judge in charge of the Mackenzie Pipeline Project Inquiry, proves an exception. Hay seems to admire the man greatly--and no doubt this admiration is well deserved--but the portrayal of Berger is wooden and hagiographical, as if he were the Great White Liberal personified. The same criticism might apply to the Dene. Hay skirts the native population for the most part, but when they do come to our attention, they are often stereotypes: they are either victims of the white man or wise, gentle souls. No doubt it is immensely difficult to describe aboriginal society from the outside, but the portrait that emerges is a far cry from the internal realism that Hay otherwise brings to the table.

Another weakness is that the novel lacks a sense of urgency and forward momentum. Very often, somewhat inexplicably, we are warned in advance that some character's decision will lead to misfortune down the road, or that situation A will cause (dramatic) situation B. Perhaps Hay felt such milestones were necessary because events on their own wouldn't sweep the audience along. This is certainly true of the segments dealing with the Mackenzie Pipeline Inquiry. When the project's viability is debated by the public, the arguments expressed hardly convey the tension of a high-stakes issue. And when Judge Berger decides the project should be shelved, his conclusion doesn't provoke any strong emotional satisfaction. The mystery, too, surrounding Lorna Dargabble's death--was it suicide or murder, and was Eddy the culprit?--comes and fades away, again without quickening the reader's excitement.

Even the romance in the novel is resolved without much emotional fanfare; it lacks the 'sparks' of Darcy proposing to Elizabeth, say. Eleanor loses Ralph the very day he has proposed to her, and the loss is more capricious than necessary or devastating. Harry has seemingly slipped away from Gwen, but then tumbles into her lap eight years later. This turn of events seems such a matter of happenstance that the reader, while wishing the couple well, doesn't really care one way or another.

Still, Late Nights on Air has its moments. Hay's recreation of a radio station is elaborate and engaging, especially as we are continually aware of the very foreign landscape that lies outside its walls. Her description, too, of a voyage into the Barrens is powerful, capturing the magic of the wilderness and its effects on those who travel through it. All in all, CFYK may be only a thousand-watt station, but its broadcasts come through loud and clear. --Nicholas Maes --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.