Toronto writer Stuart
Ross has long been a fixture on the Canadian literary scene, with numerous
chapbooks and poetry collections to his credit. Buying Cigarettes
for the Dog is his second book of short stories since 1997. This
new collection includes short fiction as well as a novella, all of which
present an offbeat view of life.
Written in clear,
minimalist prose, the stories consist of less than five pages. A few
of them offer irony-laced spoofs on serious issues. In "Me and the Pope,"
Ross imagines the pontiff as a house guest who overstays his welcome.
"Language Lessons . . . with Simon and Marie" pokes fun at a couple
attempting to learn English. "The Ape Play" mocks live theatre. Throughout
the collection, Ross's keen eye for detail contributes much to the narrative.
In "The Suntan," he portrays an elderly man named Albert in pursuit
of a woman at a pool.
Albert was a big
balding man with a tub for a torso and arms as thick and hairy as a
gorilla's, but his bottom half belonged to another, tinier man. His
thin white legs poked out of his swimming trunks and reached to the
ground, ostriches pecking for food. . . . his knees popped up like tumours
in every direction. (34)
A number of stories
focus on characters who stray from the norm. In "The President's Cold
Legs," the unnamed protagonist helps the president of his country by
pushing his wheelchair. "Howie Tosses and Turns" tells of a man who
can't sleep because a murderer is sleeping on his living room sofa.
"Elliott Goes to School" recounts the story of an armed man invading
a school. The title story, "Buying Cigarettes for the Dog," is a bitter
rant by a man who lives in a garbage dump.
In Ross's novella
"Guided Missiles," Archie Matanza, the hapless protagonist, is a late-night
radio host for a call-in show. The narrative rambles on about the disjointed
events of Archie's life--the accidental razing of his apartment building,
his relationship with a prophet and his infatuation with a neighbour.
The story concludes with an unconvincing element of magic realism.
Several pieces
towards the end of the collection feel unfinished. Among them are "Mr.
Joe," "The Closets of Time" and "So Sue Me, You Talentless F***er."
Ditto for the last story "The Engagement," which closes with the assertion,
"I speak only to fill the silence--my stories are of no consequence."
Is Ross putting
us on here? Is he merely being coy? No doubt, this statement and a few
of his stories will leave readers scratching their heads.