By Dahl Botterill
My first and only previous experience with W.D. Valgardson was in high school; Gentle Sinners was on the curriculum at the time, and it was the book no student wanted to read. I remember almost nothing about it, but the name of the author of course stuck with me, so when I spotted a book of short stories with his name on it, I decided to give him another go. I have a bit of a soft spot for Canadian fiction, and it seemed foolish to have that one novel, read years ago amidst the complaints of an entire class, define an author for me.
I'm glad I did. I enjoyed God is Not a Fish Inspector a great deal, and it certainly scratched that classic CanLit itch. It has some funny bits, and occasionally pulls at the heartstrings, but it also serves up the tragedy you might be expecting from the genre. Violent clashes between man and nature, along with some more subtle clashes between men and women, provide a baseline of conflict that runs through many of the stories. The common setting (most of the stories are set in and about the Interlake Region of Manitoba) ties them all together and lets your imagination get comfortable.
God is Not a Fish Inspector sets the hook early in the story that provides the collection with its title, a tale of an elderly fisherman who continues to fish illegally long after he's retired, refusing to give up this important piece of his identity. He sneaks out early every morning and takes great pleasure in outwitting the local fisheries officers, much to the consternation of his religious daughter.
“Granite Point” and “In Manitoba” both tell of young women longing to escape relationships with men who are often more concerned with their success than their humanity, while painting a revealing and unpleasant picture of the racism poisoning their communities. As with many of Valgardson's stories, these tales touch on the drive for gain resulting in loss of a greater sort, both on a personal level and in a broader sense of communal success.
Romance takes centre stage in “A Private Comedy” and “A Business Relationship,” albeit not in traditional sense. Love can of course take many forms, running the gamut from destructive to redemptive, and Valgardson considers many of these forms throughout this short story collection.
To call God is Not a Fish Inspector a nostalgic read seems obvious at this point in time—published in 1975, the book is nearly 50 years old—but it doesn't feel inaccurate; this collection encapsulates so much of what Canadian literature used to be that it feels like more than just an example of its era, but instead truly representative of it.