The Ravine by Paul Quarrington

Paul Quarrington’s The Ravine is one of those books I ended up picking up simply because it was ‘homey’.  It’s set explicitly in Toronto, and I am always a sucker for something explicitly Canadian.  It’s silly, but when you are from a ‘small’ place, it is sometimes gratifying to see a place you know well through the eyes of someone else.  New York, for example, is portrayed all the time to the point that it’s practically a character in films, novels, and music.  Other places, not so much.  Places in Canada are often backdrops or stand-ins for other places; they rarely get pride of place in creative works.  That may be a silly reason to read a book, but it’s led me down some interesting artistic paths.  

Besides its explicit Canada connection, Quarrington’s novel is deeply rooted in an incident in one of Toronto’s ravines.  For anyone who has explored the ravines, you know they are special in that they are a world next to and below the real world.  In a city that is pretty tame by most standards, walking into a ravine is something like going through the wardrobe to reach Narnia.  Even in bland suburban Toronto, to head down a wooded slope into one of the ravines is something of an adventure.  

Rushing creeks (and even a river), wild animals, trees, flowers, and, on occasion, some sketchy people are the world of the ravine.  In the winter, snow can pile high and animal footprints - deer, coyote, rabbits et al - remind you that you have left behind the city and entered a more magical space.  Many are the adult Torontonians today who have a story to tell about time spent in the ravines.  

It is one of those moments that gives Quarrington his title and his main character, Phil, a direction-changing life-defining moment.  I guess it is that idea - that a life can be changed so profoundly by one incident - that kept me from loving the book.  Of course those moments do exist (and apparently did for Quarrington himself if you read the article linked above), but more than anything they are plot devices.  The best fiction does not depend on plot devices to tell a story.  

Plot devices aside, Quarrington has mastered the tragicomic.  His characters are wallowing in misery, but the story is dripping with humour.  Seeing what’s funny in the midst of a life that is quickly collapsing is a talent; writing about it so that readers feel empathy while laughing is a gift. 

You can’t go wrong spending time in ravines.