The Lost Salt Gift of Blood, Alistair MacLeod

Arthur Lismer, Igonish Dock, Cape Breton

(December 27) It was OK.

That sounds noncommittal or uninterested, but it is difficult to describe the impression of this book upon me. MacLeod is without question a very fine writer -- he paints vivid pictures of the East Coast that are amazing bits of writing. And the first story in the collection uses only a very few pages to make me feel like I’ve known a horse and a man and a woman all my life, or at least as if I’d read a 600-page novel. So that is breathtaking.

But all these stories are about death and loss, about how things that are beautiful to look at will kill you or the ones you love. This is not surprising because these are stories about Cape Breton, and if there’s one thing you know about Cape Breton whether you’ve been there or not, it’s that it is beautiful and tragic, that the people are charming and self-destructive, that the way of life is enchanting and unsustainable.

And so it is depressing, all the stories.

And I still don’t know what the title means.