At the bar of the Princeton Hotel, in northern British Columbia, sits a middle-aged woman who has just abandoned her oafish, self-centred husband and skipped town. Now she drinks solo. Dave, “a short fireplug of a man,” approaches and strikes up a conversation, prompting her to ask him his line of work. Dave, unaware of the woman’s recent breakup, informs her that he makes his living as a professional home wrecker. He even has a business card: “David J. McNeil, Licensed Blaster. ‘I don’t stand behind my work, I stand behind a tree.’ ”
This is the opening scene of “Gelignite,” one of the highlights of Harold Macy’s All the Bears Sing, a collection anchored in the forests and small towns of British Columbia. Dave and the unnamed woman hit the Interior’s roads, demolishing homes and — aside from one moment of danger near the end — remaining safely behind trees as they do...
Spencer Morrison is a literature professor at the University of Groningen, in the Netherlands.