THE ARK OF THE OVEN MITT

A fading Canadian band is revitalized by a young vagabond in this rollicking showbiz novel.

Gordon’s romp follows Miles Gerber and the Shit Disturbers, a trio of middle-aged country rockers comprising singer/songwriter Miles, still pining for his ex-wife, Maddie Myles, since she left the band, and him, 20 years ago; taciturn bassist Dougie Morrison; and a Cree drummer called Drummer who narrates much of the story. The three drive a sentient van dubbed Nelly-Belle—which also narrates part of the story—from one lousy dive-bar gig to the next while bemoaning the state of Canada in general and the unremunerative music industry in particular. They’re jarred out of their rut when, while cruising a Manitoba highway, they happen upon MG (standing for “Merch Girl”), a foulmouthed 20-year-old woman with a shaved head. She becomes their own merch girl, selling CDs and T-shirts at gigs; she soon starts a website to sell their tunes, takes over managing and booking, and even sings for them. Flummoxed but invigorated, Miles starts writing new songs based on hard-luck stories he hears in the farm towns they play, and thanks to MG’s promotion, their fan base swells and they attract a caravan of acolytes who follow them from show to show. MG shepherds the scene to Lake Huron’s Manitoulin Island, where it takes root as a summer arts festival and be-in called the Ark of the Oven Mitt, complete with drum circles, stilt walkers, and whimsical anti-capitalism. The Ark’s gravitational field pulls in all manner of strangers and finally reveals deep connections in Miles’ and MG’s pasts.

Gordon’s yarn is partly a love letter to small-town Canada, with its greasy spoons, wind-swept plains, un-chic shops, and regular folks who keep on going despite their troubles. He maps this terrain well in beautifully crafted scenes of savory characters sharing honky-tonk conviviality: “Late at night after a gig, Dougie could draw attention to himself by saying something like, ‘Be that as it may gents,’ then he’d get a real dramatic pause while he inhaled, squinted, then exhaled towards the nearest non-smoker….” As the novel goes on, though, its prairie populism takes on a discordant vibe of tribalism; later chapters are less about believable places with grounded characters and more about gawking at the Burning Man–esque folderol of the Ark. They’re also about long-winded speeches—“the growth-for-growth’s-sake mentality that is driven by this new kind of ‘capitalism on steroids’ is not sustainable”—that are usually punctuated by jibes (“She was a bit preachy”) that don’t really cut the preachiness. Miles’ song lyrics are written out—they can also be heard at the author’s Bandcamp site—and feature a similar mix of vivid atmospherics (“Took the long way home / Past the Discount Auto Parts / The empty lot full of shopping carts / Along a trail of broken hearts”) and soapboxing. Gordon is a talented writer with a punchy, resonant prose style, but his unfocused narrative and billowing dialogue could use some tightening.

A rich but undisciplined tale of modern troubadours, full of heart and too much talk.