Follows a series of characters, including Arden, an intellectual singer stuck in the West Coast bar scene whose tale ends with inevitable tragedy; her husband, Nichol, who drifts through a series of disastrous love affairs; and their son, Roy, who meanders through a series of meaningless experiences.
'[Jackson] knows the subtleties of tone like the frets of an old guitar.'
'Lorna Jackson is a Vancouver Island writer, critic, and teacher. Her most recent book portrays the short life of Arden, bar singer and recent mother, who moves from gig to gig in British Columbia's lumber and mining towns, unwilling and/or unable to conquer her drinking problem and an emotional detachment from her Vancouver-based husband, Nichol. Arden's world is edgy and gritty, but, in Jackson's words, also fluid with meaning. ''In Vancouver, '' she writes, describing one of Arden's jobs, ''this would be the bar of choice for stockbrokers. On creosote stilts above high tide, windows and carpets grimy with salt and algae and body fluids; out there the Johnstone Strait, waters that tag along with hopeful currents to Japan, Russia; a fleet of fish boats, aluminum like bridge girders or wooden-hulled, like artifacts.'' Arden's reality is raw and painful, and it leads, halfway through the novel, to her suicide, leaving Nichol to involve himself with a series of women, all of whom have some connection with Arden (whose ghost continues to haunt her husband and son). The book's conclusion belongs to the boy, Roy, an adolescent struggling to understand his own realities. Jackson's female characters are all remarkable for their strengths and weaknesses. They force Nichol to confront himself in different ways, tasks for which he has little aptitude.'
"A Game To Play On The Tracks" by Lorna Jackson begins with Arden, a mother who has some very serious problems with alcohol and self-absorption. Arden's struggle to resume her life of country music at the British Columbia bar scene but is faltering. Her husband has a Peter Pan complex and talks in bad poems. When Arden doesn't survive the road, both her husband and son are left behind to make sense of an often insane and unjust world. An engaging and thoughtful read, "A Game To Play On The Tracks" is a sophisticated, albeit moody, reflection on the inequalities and distant dreams of one human life.'
"A Game To Play On The Tracks" by Lorna Jackson begins with Arden, a mother who has some very serious problems with alcohol and self-absorption. Arden's struggle to resume her life of country music at the British Columbia bar scene but is faltering. Her husband has a Peter Pan complex and talks in bad poems. When Arden doesn't survive the road, both her husband and son are left behind to make sense of an often insane and unjust world. An engaging and thoughtful read, "A Game To Play On The Tracks" is a sophisticated, albeit moody, reflection on the inequalities and distant dreams of one human life.'
Lorna Jackson is a Vancouver Island writer, critic, and teacher. Her most recent book portrays the short life of Arden, bar singer and recent mother, who moves from gig to gig in British Columbia's lumber and mining towns, unwilling and/or unable to conquer her drinking problem and an emotional detachment from her Vancouver-based husband, Nichol. Arden's world is edgy and gritty, but, in Jackson's words, also fluid with meaning. In Vancouver, '' she writes, describing one of Arden's jobs, this would be the bar of choice for stockbrokers. On creosote stilts above high tide, windows and carpets grimy with salt and algae and body fluids; out there the Johnstone Strait, waters that tag along with hopeful currents to Japan, Russia; a fleet of fish boats, aluminum like bridge girders or wooden-hulled, like artifacts.'' Arden's reality is raw and painful, and it leads, halfway through the novel, to her suicide, leaving Nichol to involve himself with a series of women, all of whom have some connection with Arden (whose ghost continues to haunt her husband and son). The book's conclusion belongs to the boy, Roy, an adolescent struggling to understand his own realities. Jackson's female characters are all remarkable for their strengths and weaknesses. They force Nichol to confront himself in different ways, tasks for which he has little aptitude.'
'"A Game To Play On The Tracks" by Lorna Jackson begins with Arden, a mother who has some very serious problems with alcohol and self-absorption. Arden's struggle to resume her life of country music at the British Columbia bar scene but is faltering. Her husband has a Peter Pan complex and talks in bad poems. When Arden doesn't survive the road, both her husband and son are left behind to make sense of an often insane and unjust world. An engaging and thoughtful read, "A Game To Play On The Tracks" is a sophisticated, albeit moody, reflection on the inequalities and distant dreams of one human life.'
The novel follows a series of characters, including Arden, an intellectual singer stuck in the West Coast bar scene whose tale ends with inevitable tragedy; her husband, Nichol, who drifts through a series of disastrous love affairs; and their son, Roy, who meanders through a series of meaningless experiences. The plot is loose at best, as the narrative drifts in and out of the characters' lives, following emotional notes more than story lines. The episodes are layered with subtext, and there are entire life histories contained in asides. This isn't the usual Can Lit multi-generational saga of domestic affairs and quiet insights. "A Game to Play on the Tracks" is as brutally violent as it is introspective, as critical of the domestic life and its enforced passivity as it is of bar louts who want nothing more than endless reruns of AC/DC hits. Rather than writing the literary equivalent of a pop song with artificial and meaningless romances, Jackson has instead embraced the emotion of an improv jazz session, and crafted a tale of beautiful chaos.'--Peter Darbyshire "amazon.ca "
Lorna Jackson is a Vancouver Island writer, critic, and teacher. Her most recent book portrays the short life of Arden, bar singer and recent mother, who moves from gig to gig in British Columbia's lumber and mining towns, unwilling and/or unable to conquer her drinking problem and an emotional detachment from her Vancouver-based husband, Nichol. Arden's world is edgy and gritty, but, in Jackson's words, also fluid with meaning. In Vancouver, '' she writes, describing one of Arden's jobs, ''this would be the bar of choice for stockbrokers. On creosote stilts above high tide, windows and carpets grimy with salt and algae and body fluids; out there the Johnstone Strait, waters that tag along with hopeful currents to Japan, Russia; a fleet of fish boats, aluminum like bridge girders or wooden-hulled, like artifacts.'' Arden's reality is raw and painful, and it leads, halfway through the novel, to her suicide, leaving Nichol to involve himself with a series of women, all of whom have some connection with Arden (whose ghost continues to haunt her husband and son). The book's conclusion belongs to the boy, Roy, an adolescent struggling to understand his own realities. Jackson's female characters are all remarkable for their strengths and weaknesses. They force Nichol to confront himself in different ways, tasks for which he has little aptitude.'--Matt Hartman "Canadian Book Review Annual "
Arden, raw, witty and dangerous, walks that brittle line between compassion and dissolution. Her absence, when it comes, permeates those closest to her like a West Coast chill: to the bone. Five other voices, in first-person, parable-like chapters, unravel and knit together Arden's story, which alternates between rough-and-ready New Westminster and back-to-the-land Vancouver Island. ... Jackson knows that rich character is the most compelling element in the contemporary novel, and detail is the stuff from which complexity of character is woven. From this tangled knot of a family, Jackson knits a row of characters that would be awkward in the same room together, but are as comfortable a fit as a favourite winter sweater that smells like dog in rain.'--Vivian Moreau "Globe & Mail "
Jackson is wryly funny and a gymnast of the alphabet, dextrous with both language and meaning. We're in Lorrie Moore territory.'--Zsu Zsi Gartner "Malahat Review "
