29 December 2025

The Three Best Reads of 2025 (two are in print!)



An annus horribilis, wouldn't you say? Strange, too! Never thought I'be be flying the flag of Greenland from the porch of our Upper Canadian home. 

This has also been an unusual twelve months for the Dusty Bookcase in that two of this year's top three reads are actually in print!

Huzzah!


Douglas Durkin's 1930 novel Mr. Gumble Sits Up, reviewed here in 2012 so disappointed that a full thirteen years passed before I got around to The Magpie; this despite having been given a copy by a reader of this blog. He recommended it, suggesting it as the Great Canadian Post-Great War Novel. I think he's right.

First published in 1923 by Hodder & Stoughton, it's currently available here from Invisible Publishing.

Related to Durkin, quite literally, is future wife Martha Ostenso and her award-winning 1925 novel Wild Geese.

Was Durkin the co-author? Evidence more than suggests so.

Will we ever know the extent of his contribution? I expect so.

Do I want to get into it? No, I do not. 

Aging copies of the 2008 New Canadian Library edition are still available for purchase from Penguin Random House. The cover, an abomination, was clearly created by someone who knew nothing about the novel. Who signed off on it, I wonder.


Reuben Ship's The Investigator, a 1956 adaptation of his then-two-year-old radio play of the same name, rounds out the top three best reads. I enjoyed this book more than any other read this year. It made me laugh, and is as relevant a commentary on American politics as it was seven decades ago. 

If I could revive just one of the out-of-print books read this year, The Investigator would be it. However, tradition dictates I select another two books deserving a return to print. And so:

A case can be made for The Salt-Box, her Leacock award-winning 1951 debut, but I consider A View of the Town (1954) to be Jan Hilliard's first true novel. It concerns the approaching sesquicentenary of a Nova Scotia town and the rivalry between the heads of its founding families. The lightest of the novelist's five novels, should it also have won the Leacock? It was up against Joan Walker's Pardon My Parka, which I aim to read next year.

Will let you know.


Winnifred Eaton's second novel as "Onoto Watanna," and her second novel overall, A Japanese Nightingale (1901) was the Montreal author's big commercial breakthrough, I liked it a lot, and was surprised to find that it has not been caught up in the wave of things Eaton – Winnifred and sister Edith –  that has swept through academe these last few decades.

Returning to the in print, three more titles figure, beginning with The Weird World of Wes Beattie (1963), the first book read and reviewed this year.


Had it not been for the good folks at New York publishers Felony and Mayhem, this bit o' fun would've made it to the list of three books most deserving of a return to print. That said, I do wish F&M would stop pushing The Weird World of Wes Beattie as "The First Truly CANADIAN Mystery."

It's nowhere close.


Stephen Leacock's Arcadian Adventures of the Idle Rich (1914) is still in print. The fifteen-year-old copies New Canadian Library edition sitting in the Penguin Random House warehouse have a better cover than Wild Geese, but I recommend the Tecumseh Press Canadian Critical Edition edition edited by D.M.R. Bentley.


Finally, we have Charles G.D. Roberts' The Heart of the Ancient Wood (1900). This was was the most disappointing read of the year, but only because I remembered liking it so much as a young golden blonde university student. This old grizzled guy saw it quite differently.


The Heart of the Ancient Wood is in print today as part of the the Formac Fiction Treasures series.


The Investigator aside, it's no great shame that the rest are out of print. Robert G. Collin's Tolerable Levels of Violence (1983) was interesting for its depiction of a dystopian North America in which law and order has collapsed. It stands in stark contrast with Rev Hugh Pedley's Looking Forward (1913), which imagines a futuristic near-Utopian Canada brought about by the unification of most Christian denominations. Expo 67 obsessives – I'm one! – will want to hunt down copies of A Fair Affair (1967), Paul Champagne's lone novel.

Regrets? Well, I was looking forward to reading They Have Bodies, the 1925 debut novel by Barney Allen (aka Sol Allen), but somehow misplaced my copy. I found it only a few days ago.

Resolutions, by which I mean reading resolutions, I have but one. Since 2009, when I began this journey through Canada's forgotten, neglected and suppressed writing, I've read and reviewed 460 books, barely thirty percent of which were penned by women.

In the New Year, I'll be reading and reviewing books by women only. No male authors. Barney Allen will have to wait.

Should be interesting.

I'm looking forward to it.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year. I'm confident that it will be happier one.

Really, I am.

Related posts:



26 December 2025

The Ten Best Book Buys of 2025 (and four gifts!)



This year, Simon Thomas of Stuck in a Book and Tea or Books fame made a fourth stab at what he refers to as "Project 24," his goal being to purchase only twenty-four books "for myself" throughout the year. The "for myself" bit is important. Why deprive friends?

As most of my books are stored in one of our outbuildings – there's no way they would all fit in the house  I chose to follow Simon's example. My Project 24 had a different carve-out: I would not be counting books purchased at a certain charity shop in nearby Smiths Falls. My justification for the exception had to do with my support of the charity... and, admittedly, the ridiculously low prices. One 2024 visit yielded three signed Margaret Atwood first editions from the 'seventies for two dollars in total.

When June hit I was feeling quite proud of my myself. I'd purchased just eight books. I'd been picky, even at the charity shop, Between Friends/Entre Amis being my only purchase.


All fell apart two days later when I visited a different charity shop, this one in Brockville, where I came across twelve seemingly unopened Folio Society Anthony Trollope novels at $2.50 each. I bought the lot. This meant that to get back on track I would have to keep my wallet in check until November.

Of course, I paid no mind to that constraint, continuing apace until late August when 
contractors appeared at our door, bringing the year's book buying to an abrupt end

Home renovations will do that.

I ended up purchasing twenty-nine books in 2025, which is far from a disgrace when one takes into account the twelve Trollopes. This year's list of best buys is atypical in that it features two Canadian books I already owned, and another that is Canadian in title only: 

The Victors

Robert Barr
New York: Stokes, 1901

There are real bargains to be had with Robert Barr. Most titles listed online are dirt cheap – so cheap that booksellers can't be bothered to provide a photo. Such was the case with this novel. I have no idea what it is about, but the subtitle, A Romance of Yesterday Morning & This Afternoon, intrigues.
The Girl from Toronto

Hugh Clevely
London:
   Amalgamated, 1954

A last minute addition to an order placed with a UK bookseller, the title caught my eye. Hugh Clevely was a Brit. Nothing in the two-columned 64-pages suggests he ever so much as visited Toronto. But that cover!
Lantern Marsh
Beaumont S. Cornell
Toronto: Ryerson, 1923

A novel set in a "provincial city" modeled on Brockville, Ontario, I'd been looking for a copy since buying a home in the area seven years ago. Cornell was born in nearby Athens Township and became a leading figure in cancer research. The jacket promises a "motif of woman-interest introduced in a rather unusual way." Intriguing!

Murder in a Road Gang

Hugh Cresswell
London: Sampson Low,
   Marston, 1936

Long a subject of interest, I tracked down a copy of this early Canadian murder mystery, likely the very first to be set on the Prairies. Illicit drugs figure!


Hearts and Faces
John Murray Gibbon
New York: John Lane, 1916

The scarce debut novel from the same man who would one day write the brilliant Pagan Love (1922).  This one appears to have been inspired by the Parisian art world. I'll let you know. A fortuitous eBay find, I was surprised and delighted to find that the copy I received was inscribed by the author.

A View of the Town
Jan Hilliard [Hilda
   Kay Grant]
New York: Abelard-
   Schulman, 1954

I already owned a copy of Nelson, Foster & Scott first Canadian edition, but this was signed! The author's first true novel, it is one of only two set in Nova Scotia, the author's home province. 

Trespass Against None
Eric Cecil Morris
Montreal: Whitcombe &
   Gilmour, 1950

Morris should be remembered for having co-written 1965's The Squeaking Wheel, but that bigoted screed is as forgotten as his quirky debut novel A Voice is Calling (1947). I was going on about Morris to a friend when I remembered this second novel. The only copy listed online was signed. An easy sale.

Hugh Pedley
Toronto: William Briggs, 1913

Early 20th-century Christian science fiction inspired in part by early 19th-century Washington Irving, in Looking Forward a pious man of science hibernates for decades, awakening to a Canada made utopian by the union of its Protestant denominations.

Sister Woman
J.G. Sime
London: Grant Richards,
   1919

This book is in horrible condition, but is so very rare that I had to rescue it. The Quebec bookseller had no idea what he had.

Unrecognized in its day, the novel has since been returned to print by Tecumseh Press (sadly, also unrecognized).

Anything Could Happen!
Toronto: Longmans, 1961
Phyllis Brett Young

A thing of beauty, I first purchased a copy in Toronto six years ago. This memoir of sorts inspired by a summer spent as a girl in Muskoka is not only signed by the author but also inscribed by her mother as a gift to an English relative. 



Twenty-twenty-five brought four generous donations to the Dusty Bookcase:


The Great Canadian Novel
Harry J. Boyle
Toronto: PaperJacks, 1973

A novel I've been meaning to read for over forty years, if only because of the title. When my parents were in university, both Bonheur d'occasion and Two Solitudes were promoted as the Great Canadian Novel. Fifth Business was mentioned most often during my own university years. What are the kids being told today, I wonder.

I have my doubts that The Great Canadian Novel "lives up to its title," as the late Peter C. Newman claimed, but aim to find out. 

Robert Stevenson: Engineer and Sea Builder
Kay Grant [Hilda Kay Grant]
New York: Meredith, 1969

A gift from the author's literary executor, Robert Stevenson was the second of the author's two biographies, the first being  Where the copy of A View of the Town above is signed "Jan Hilliard." this book is signed "Kay Grant." An accomplished lighthouse engineer, Stevenson was the grandfather of Robert Louis Stevenson. 


Beside Still Waters
Edna Jaques
Toronto: Thomas Allen, 1939

This summer, my friend Forrest Pass fed my Edna Jaques obsession with a copy of the poet's fifth collection. Seventy-five titles in total, of those I've read 'To a Radio' is my favourite.


The Poetry of Robert Henri Alphonse McGee
Bob McGee
Sherbrooke, QC: GGEL, 2025

My interest in Bob McGee can be traced back to the 2023 fiftieth anniversary of Véhicule Press. The poet's Three Dozen Sonnets & Fast Drawings was the publisher's very first book. Imagine my surprise in being contacted by Libbey Griffith asking whether I'd like a copy of this new collection.

Would I!

An inscribed copy arrived in my mailbox a couple of weeks later. It's a beautifully produced collection, featuring Three Dozen Sonnets & Fast Drawings and McGee's 1977 follow-up Shanty-Horses, James Bay Poems, along with the previously unpublished 'The Labovrs of Alphonsvs' and 'Votive Haiku,' interspersed with colour illustrations. The cover painting and author portrait are by Libbey Griffith.

I'll be making a second Project 24 attempt in 2026... even though my Abebooks shopping basket holds eighty-nine books.

Thanks to my beautiful wife Anyès for the photo of those Trollopes. 

21 December 2025

Dusty CanLit Autumn Reads


What a difference a season makes, twenty-two thousand little hours.

Three months ago, I was bemoaning the slim summer haul.

Well, this past autumn saw reviews of old Canadian books from eleven bloggers other than myself. Twenty-seven titles in total!

It warms the heart on a cold December day. 








I'm torn as to which to recommend most, but you can't go wrong with The InvestigatorThe Magpie or Wild Geese.

Must add that the season also saw the release of Contes de Noël d'antan au Québec, a new anthology edited by Jean-Louis Lessard of Laurentiana fame. It can be purchased here through Archambault. Better yet, buy it directly from the publisher Éditions GID.


Félicitations, Jean-Louis!

16 December 2025

Exhuming McCarthy


The Investigator: A Narrative in Dialogue
Reuben Ship
London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1956
119 pages

Joseph McCarthy was not long for this world when The Investigator was published. Politically and physically, he was all but dead. The American demagogue had been at his most powerful just two years earlier when The Investigator hit Washington. A shell fired from across the northern border, its blast was felt in Congress, the Senate, and was heard, repeatedly, in the Eisenhower White House.

The Investigator began life as a radio play written by Reuben Ship, a Montrealer who'd first achieved acclaim at McGill for his production of Henry IV. He'd gone on to write and produce anti-fascist plays for the YM-YWHA Little Theatre and Montreal's New Theatre Group before chasing opportunity south of the border. This worked for a time. Ship's chief gig was the radio serial The Life Of Riley, but then the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service came calling. Two fellow members of the Radio Writer's Guild suspected Ship of being a Communist. In September 1951, he was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee. He pled the fifth four times, then accused the Committee of jailing people who wanted peace. 

In January 1953, Ship was deported. This would've happened months earlier had he not suffering from chronic osteomyelitis. The writer's journey back to Canada began with his removal in handcuffs from a California hospital. He was transported by plane and train to a Michigan prison hospital ward, where he spent the better part of a day. The following evening, Ship was placed in a police wagon, driven across the Ambassador Bridge, and dumped on a Windsor street.

Do not be distracted by the drama leading to The Investigator; the work deserves the greater attention as one of the most impactful lampoons in American history.

Broadcast on CBC Radio on 30 May 1954, it begins with the titular character about to catch a flight. A man named Garson, speaking on behalf of "the Committee," is pushing for the cancellation of a scheduled hearing. The Investigator will have none of it:

"The committee can't stop me. The Party can't stop me. Nothing can't stop me."
But then the plane carrying the Investigator explodes in mid-flight. Confused, but angry as always, he is met by Inspector Martin of the Immigration Service:

Martin, a kindly soul, seeks to reassure:

"The fog will lift soon. You won't have any trouble seeing in a moment."
   "How did I get here? Where are the other passengers? How many survivors were there?"
   "There no survivors, sir."
   "You mean I'm the only one?"asked the investigator incredulously.
   "There were no survivors."
   "What are you talking about?" the Investigator asked angrily. "are you crazy? I'm here... I'm alive aren't I?"
The fog lifts only when the Investigator comes to recognize that his time on our mortal coil has ended. Once this occurs, he's escorted to the vicinity of the Main Gate. There he is met by the Gatekeeper, who  informs the Inspector that he must be investigated by the Permanent Investigating Committee on Permanent Entry before he can be admitted. Should the Investigator's application for admittance fail, he will be deported "Down There."


The Investigator balks:


As he awaits the hearing, the Investigator is visited by the Committee: Titus OatesTomás de Torquemada, Cotton Mather, and George Jeffreys, 1st Baron Jeffreys, better known as "The Hanging Judge." The four souls assure the newcomer that his application will be accepted, then address the purpose of their visit. They seek to replace the Gatekeeper with the Inquisitor. Says Oates:
"We feel that in you we have a man who can bring to the committee's work the latest inquisitional techniques."
   "In our day, it is true, we were without peers, Torquemada explained. "since that time we understand much progress has been made. Compared to you, sir, we are mere novices, and we bow to your superior knowledge and experience."

The Gatekeeper is soon deposed, largely due to the skills of his replacement. Once the Investigator is in charge, he suspends new applications and opens investigations into souls who've been granted permanent entry; the Committee accuses them of "disloyalty, actual or potential."

Socrates, Thomas Jefferson, John Milton, and John Stuart Mill are confronted with their writings, and are condemned as subversive.* A watchmaker is caught up in it all for no other reason than his name:


All are deported, sent from "Up Here" to "Down There."

These deportations and others have unexpected consequences. Down There, Martin Luther and John Stuart Mill are making speeches about the Rights of the Damned, John Milton and Thomas Jefferson are demanding a Congress, and Oliver Cromwell and Tom Paine have organized a Lost Souls Militia.


The Voice, ruler of Down There is livid. He orders Titus Oates to bring the Investigator to meet him – outside the Main Gate, of course – then launches into his complaints:
[T]hat madman, Socrates, keeps asking me if I know what virtue is. Me!" The Voice was full of outrage. "And that lunatic Karl Marx..."
   "Which Karl Marx?" the investigator asked hopefully.
   "How should I know? There are hundreds of them – all over the place!"
We're now thirteen pages away from the ending and I dare not spoil it.

The book begins with an author's introduction, 'A short history of a long-playing record,' reminding that The Inspector began life as a 1954 CBC radio broadcast. Heard by Americans living close to the northern border, its reputation quickly spread. Somehow, tapes began circulating, after which came bootleg LPs. It took England's Oriole Records to figure out the rights issues.


Starring John Draine, James Doohan, and Barry Morse, amongst others, it can be listened to here online thanks to the Internet Archive. A masterpiece, even at the distance of seven decades its impact is immediate and impressive. 

And it's surprising how smoothly the script became a book. I delighted in each and every page.

Interestingly, The Investigator has never been published in the United States. It hasn't been published in Canada either, though Ship's script is one of eleven included in All the Bright Company: Radio Drama Produced by Andrew Allan (Kingston & Toronto: Quarry/CBC Enterprises, 1987).

Joseph McCarthy died on 2 May 1957, likely of cirrhosis of the liver. He was 48 years old. Where he is today, Up Here, Down There or nowhere at all is anyone's guess.

* In the radio play, Canadian rebel William Lyon Mackenzie is one of those whose words are used against him. Neither he nor his writing appears in the book.
Access and Object:
A compact hardcover in black boards with simple gold type on the spine, the jacket and nine illustrations are by the brilliant Ronald Searle. My copy was once part of the Scarborough Township Public Library's collection.

The Scarborough Township Public Library Bookmobile, c.1956.

Access: As far as I can tell, the book enjoyed just one printing. Every one of the thirty copies currently listed for sale online is a bargain. At £5.00, a near Fine copy offered by a bookseller in Poole is the least expensive. The most expensive comes from a Bath bookseller who offers a Near Fine edition coupled with a very well preserved copy of the advance proof. Price: £67.00.


It is by far the best buy I've stumbled upon this year.