Lithium Fire is a debut fiction novel by Liam Taliesin. The main character is haunted by the death of his ex-wife in a fire he narrowly escaped. His guilt overwhelms his grief, but the fire also ignites a desire to return to his passion of painting. The architect of the arson reflects on how to avoid prison, deal with his competition for the drug trade, and control two crazy brothers, one of whom set the fire for him and the other recently released from hospital. This book also portrays a heartbreaking story of a proud Métis woman who is dealing with serious issues of family abuse and complex relationship with her daughter.
Lithium Fire is Liam Taliesin’s debut novel. In the book, he offers a fictional portrait of Winnipeg in 1984, particular the characters who hang around the Royal Albert Arms, a hotel/pub I’ve actually been to myself in the 80s. This novel was a great read. What I particularly loved was the way Taliesin portrayed Winnipeg and the Royal Albert as characters; they were more than the setting, characters had interactions with them, were influenced by them, and their lives, disappointments, tensions and celebrations all took place within Winnipeg or the Royal Albert. The author paints the picture of a community that is held together by their relationship to the Royal Albert, whether they are servers, bar tenders, front desk clerks, or residents and customers. The main family, the Benders is a troubled bunch who create havoc in this community. Another aspect of the novel I loved was the role of art. Almost every character does something creative, whether it is Banjo Bob who serenades customers with old folk songs, or Scott Kostiuk, gallery owner and painter. The portrayal of Winnipeg is realistic. Taliesin includes the treatment of Indigenous people by the police. I read Lithium Fire aloud to my husband over several weeks. Both of us laughed aloud at the wit, humour and often biting observations. The characters in the novel are people I can imagine knowing. I can’t help think of Ursula K. LeGuin’s wonderful essay, the Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction which talks about forms of narration other than the hero’s journey. In this case, we have a group of people trying to get by in times of poverty, dealing with mental health issues, addiction, racism and family trauma. As someone who visited Winnipeg twice a year for almost 20 years, I recognize many landmarks and landscapes. I think this is a novel that everyone would enjoy, but especially those with a connection to Winnipeg. Taliesin is precise in his descriptions of places, roads, bridges, and even the Salisbury House, a Winnipeg institution.
Canadian author Liam Taliesin scores with his debut novel, Lithium Fire. In it, he develops a vision of Winnipeg, Canada in the year 1984. The Royal Albert Arms Hotel is the central setting in a seedy neighborhood in Winnipeg, a “dive now but had a reasonably comfortable bar which would be warm.” The worn-down hotel is itself a character that influences the novel’s human characters as well as providing them homes, jobs, and social interaction. It is the hub of a community of mostly creative, often troubled, misfits.
All the characters, ranging from art dealers, to desk clerks, waitresses, and barkeeps at the hotel, as well as an unusual stock of hotel customers and residents in Lithium Fire ring true to life, and the reader probably knows similar real-life folks. Scott Kostyk, a gallery owner and painter, is haunted by the fiery arson death of his ex-wife, but the tragedy invigorates his painting career. The eponymous Banjo Bob plays old folk songs on his banjo. The Bender family are brothers who perform illegal acts for fun and profit, including setting the fire that killed Kostiuk’s wife. Cowboy is the hotel's front desk clerk, doorman, lobby manger, and bouncer who has more than a finger in the till. A Métis woman, Sarah Grant, is dealing with the sexual abuse of her eight-year-old daughter. These characters are trying to survive in a poverty-stricken, seedy neighbor that is sliding further into decline, all while dealing with significant other issues: addiction, racism, family trauma, sexual abuse, and mental health issues.
The prose is tight but with many well-constructed lines that I had to highlight such as “Punks swaggered around the pool table brandishing cue sticks like erections” and “Kostyk woke with a bad case of cubism”. While I have never been to Winnipeg, the descriptions seem accurate to me and certainly capture the essence of a particular time and place—even the bone-chilling winter cold.