Julia Hoop, a twenty-five-year-old counselling psych student, is working on her thesis, exploring an idea which makes her graduate supervisor squirm. She is conducting interview after interview with a group of women she affectionately calls the Molestas - women whose experience of childhood sexual abuse did not cause physical trauma. Julia is the expert, she claims, because she has the experience; her own father, Dirtbag, a furniture designer and failed poet, disappeared when she was eight leaving behind nothing but his Dylan Thomas book, and a legacy of addiction and violence. But the more Julia learns, the less certain she is of what she believes. When both her boyfriend and her graduate advisor break up with her on the same day, Julia leaves her city of Vancouver on a bicycle for a cross-Canada trip in search of her father, or so she tells people. Julia will visit the three cities from which he’s contacted her over the Banff, Alberta; Redvers, Saskatchewan; and Kingston, Ontario. Her unexpected travel partner is Smirks, a handsome athlete who also has a complicated history, and with whom Julia is falling in love. Their travel days are marked by peaks of ecstatic physical exertion, and their nights by frustrated drinking and drugs. After an unsettling incident in rural Saskatchewan involving a trio of aggressive children, Julia wakes up in the morning to discover Smirks has disappeared. Everything, once again, falls apart. Sometimes shocking in its candour, yet charmed with enigmatic characters, PEDAL is an exploration of the potholes and pitfalls of identity. It is a close look at how we are shaped by accidents of trauma and sex, brain chemistry and the landscape of our country. PEDAL challenges beliefs we hold dear about the nature of pedophilia, the essence of innocence and the idea that the past is something one runs from.
What a dream to encounter a book this sensitive, complex, and honest about trauma. I remain totally stunned by the voice of the protagonist here; how refreshing to meet a character so charming, unpolished, and - in particular - a woman with an anger problem. It's also an epic road trip story, features an incredible female friendship, and presents a gorgeous rendering of Vancouver. Such a total departure from the trauma narratives that dominate CanLit and our society. I can't wait for the day that this text is known as a pre-eminent fictional work on the topic of pedophilia, molestation, and survival, rather than the glorifying, exploitative canon of Lolita et al. If you're drawn to challenging feminist work like Virginie Despentes ("King Kong Theory") and Charlotte Roche ("Wetlands"), you'll love this book.
So let's just acknowledge right off the bat that it takes a writer of superior skill to even attempt to pull off what Canadian author Chelsea Rooney so successfully does here in her debut novel Pedal, first published in 2015 but that was just acquired by my local library about six months ago; namely, it's a thoughtful and nuanced look at the inherently tricky subject of sex between adults and children, one that deliberately avoids terms like "abuse" and "victims" in order to do a much more complicated examination of where exactly the line lays between willing and unwilling participants, and whether it's possible for these kinds of incidents to ever not result in some kind of trauma in a child as they grow older.
That's a giant can of worms for any author to open up -- sheesh, I'm a bit nervous even publishing a review of a book like this -- but to save you the suspense, Rooney here is successful at it, delivering a fascinating character-based story that both acknowledges the reality of what happens in most cases of sex between a minor and a non-minor, but also opens up the possibility that not 100 percent of all cases are the same, and that even when there is cause for alarm (as is almost always the case), these situations are often exploited by medical professionals looking to sell more drugs, to come to tidy conclusions so to get patients off the books, and other various issues that have nothing to do with the act at the center of the controversy.
A self-described semi-autobiographical novel, in it we follow the misadventures of 25-year-old Vancouver slacker Julia, a grad student who drinks too much, does too many drugs, and can't seem to stay in a relationship long enough to even be bothered by its breakup. She's doing her thesis on the question of whether there are adult "survivors" (another term she consciously chooses not to use) of childhood sexual experiences, who look back now and don't consider what they went through to be particularly harmful or to have caused any particular lasting bad effects, exactly the way she herself feels about her own experiences with childhood sexuality, having been fondled on a regular basis by her father before he finally left the family when she was a teen, never to be seen again.
Needless to say, the research project makes every other person in her life extremely uncomfortable, from her current boyfriend to her sister (who was also molested as a child by their father, but in a rougher and more violent way that definitely did leave scars), to her horrified academic adviser who originally thought the focus of her thesis was going to be on the prevalence of psychiatrists to falsely diagnose such victims and to overmedicate them. It's essentially become the main focus of Julia's life at the point where we join her, rapidly starting to turn obsessive, which she often uses as a way to ignore the fact that nearly all other aspects of her life these days are turning into a complete trainwreck.
The plot itself goes into odder and more unexpected directions starting from there, which I'll let remain a surprise so to not spoil things for you; but the main point to make is that Rooney successfully treads a very fine line in this novel, crawling right up to the unacceptable edge of "edgy indie lit" and then redeeming herself while backing away a bit, then edging up again before pulling back some more. As simply a character study it's fantastic, the kind of deep dive into a messy and complex woman that fans of MFA literature love the most about contemporary novels; but there's also a lot going on, in terms of the story structure and what happens to everyone involved along the way, a great blend between character and plot that will remind astute readers of such other critical/popular hybrids as Michael Chabon and Jonathan Franzen.
I can't in good conscience call it a "perfect" novel -- there are some who will simply be horrified by the book's very concept itself, no matter how good a job Rooney does with it -- which is why it's not getting a fabled perfect score of 10 today (making this the longest CCLaP has ever gotten into a year of reviewing without presenting even one perfect score). But that said, it's certainly close to perfect, a novel that is simultaneously wise and funny and tragic and illuminating, playing our emotions like a fine violinist as we go on both a metaphorical and actual journey with our riveting, infuriating hero. Both fast-paced and contemplative, for both younger and older audiences, at once tackling ultra-controversial issues while still delivering the most traditionally framed three-act story you might ever want, Pedal has something for just about everyone, a rock-solid recommendation today that will undoubtedly be making our best-of-the-year lists come December.
It's times like these that I loathe the five star system Goodreads has opted to go with. I want to give this book a 9/10. It deserves that, ESPECIALLY considering it is a first novel.
Full disclosure: I know Chelsea, the author. This is the first time anyone of my acquaintance has published a novel, and I was terrified to read it. I knew I would have to review it, and I worried I wouldn't like it, leaving me with two unattractive options: To write a critique and hurt a friend, or to lie.
Thank goodness it never came to that.
Julia, the narrator, is sympathetic, but not necessarily likeable. She's a character flush with youthful narcissism, and her insistence on reclaiming a trauma-free narrative often feels like watching a penned animal bash its head against the bars of its cage. She pushes other characters into roles they don't want to occupy, and leaves them little chance to wiggle out. She's complex, and just a slight shade of unreliable in her narration.
The general plot of the story is nothing especially new--looking for an absent father, personal struggle, a literal journey as a figurative one... But the framing is fresh. It's deeply, deeply Canadian; land of the silver birch/home of the beaver to its very core.
It is occasionally hard to read--pedophilia is not a breezy topic, though sometimes Julia tries to imbue it with irreverence, more for her own benefit than anyone else's, Smirks included. It's a testament to Rooney's ability (one I can only presume will sharpen even further over time) that she never leaves us, the readers, mired in disgust or pity.
If I have any criticism, it is how neatly the loose ends are tied up. The reveal is a bit "fated" in a way that doesn't feel entirely authentic. That said, it was a rather satisfying resolution, if not entirely believable.
I will 100% have a preorder in for her next book. This one pretty much floored me.
As wrote Terence, the ancient Roman playwright, "for I am human, nothing human is alien to me". Pedal is a notable book. Weirdly captivating, it presents us a full pallet of humanity, from the noblest to the most degenerated.
Rooney has a rare---and yet so desperately needed---ability to rub on our face the matters of life that we let go unnoticed. She is as sharp to expose the mundane (often hilarious!) with new colours as to convert into clear text some of the deepest human charms and flaws. Remaining indifferent is not an option.
Her crafting of characters is careful and complex enough. Her narrative flows pleasantly but never spares the reader from shocks and turnarounds. As a bonus, the Canadian landscape becomes the stable background for the string of ruptures, encounters, discovery, and accidents, both fortunate and unfortunate. There are happiness and distress, violence and affection, peace and torment.
Rooney unassuming---hence Canadian---stance allows Pedal to be a very respectful tale of human inner discovery and to go untainted by affectation or unnecessary moralism.
Please do not let the apparently unpalatable combination of bike road-trip and research on pedophilia refrain you from attacking Pedal. Give it some ten pages and you shall be hooked for the entire trip.
This book made me uncomfortable - as I imagine it makes most readers uncomfortable - for the exact same reason Lolita makes readers uncomfortable: Rooney burrows deep into the heart of the taboo behind pedophilia and has the nerve to find redeeming qualities in those who fall in love with children. This is the foundation of the novel; the narrative she builds on this base follows a not-so-unbiased and fairly flawed narrator biking across Canada in search of her (pedophile) father, Dirtbag. Get it? Pedophile? Pedal-phile? Anyway: a surprisingly unsettling but lovely piece of fiction.
From the very first line, Chelsea Rooney transfixes the reader: "The night had started out clear in East Vancouver, but from the west a fat finger of tarnished cloud gestured toward us." The use of language is unsettling, the subject matter brave. Rooney has a singular voice. There's pain and empathy and humour and very astute observations of people and places.
This novel is exactly what CanLit needs. Smart, gutsy, and beautifully written, it tackles issues often considered uncomfortable or taboo — and does it with a level of nuance that's deserving of literary awards and a place on syllabi. It's a serious and unflinching book that will also have you laughing out loud at times — no mean feat.
Repression and raw truths lay embedded in Chelsea Rooney’s debut novel Pedal. It’s the story of Julia, a psychology student in Vancouver trying to come up with a coherent analysis of her complicated thesis. It is her belief that not all victims of pedophiles have experienced trauma if it doesn’t involve pain. Of course, this proves to be extremely difficult for her to prove and extremely hard for her to explain to those she is closest to her. The more complicated her exploration, the more determined she becomes, “...the belief that pedophilia is solely the result of a patriarchal society is specious,” she declares, “...There are results other than victimization and oppression.” It’s statements like these that alienate her colleagues and most of the world around her.
As a way of trying to find some answers for herself and her work, she embarks on a cycling trip across Canada to see her ailing mother in Nova Scotia. Julia takes Smirks with her, a good-looking writer whom she falls for, which would be great if only he weren’t a pedophile.
Rooney approaches the difficult themes in her book with a frankness that can be jarring. However, she tempers the problematic with beautiful views of the narrator’s physical and inner journeys: “The trees growing there were bare and withered and grey, but if you squinted, they shone like silver scar tissue against the snow. The sun and water at their feet.” Through Julia’s stubbornness and her thoughtful revelations Rooney crafts a gripping story in murky territory.
While the book doesn’t tread lightly upon its controversial nature, Rooney’s writing is nuanced and forces the reader into much neglected perspectives. Pedal is a provocative and a hard read at times, but it’s a refreshing one nonetheless.
On the one hand, this was an easy read because the characters and plot wheel you right along (pun intended). On the other hand, the subject matter was at times difficult and disturbing (and the writing smart but not pretentious), which I appreciated, but it’s no beach read. The structure was great; the narrative struck a good balance between realism and fiction. The characters were at times very unlikable, yet sympathetic and plausible. And, as someone who has lived in many different places in Canada, I very much enjoyed the pan-Canadian settings, which were at times vast and at other times intimate, and always with a sense of familiarity. Certainly this novel made me think about difficult questions and want to have conversations about them, which every good book should do.
Distressing, lush, beautiful, unsettling, challenging, powerful - just what the staid world of Canadian literature needs. This is not an easy read, and so if you're looking for Canadian Shield navel-gazing, move on. But if you want to read a book that tackles the issues of pedophilia and molestation that no one else is willing to talk about, read on. There are ups and downs, and times when continuing with the story is really genuinely hard, but this is a book that's forging a new path through the tree-saturated writing of Canada, pushing boundaries and pushing buttons, and that's a really good thing.
A really beautifully written book about a troubled young woman who has an experience with sexual abuse in her past. She becomes fascinated by pedophilia and eventually befriends a pedophile and they go on a bike trip together. I found this book hard and disturbing to read, but ultimately, I was touched by its nuances and portrayal of the intricacy of humanity.
Nominated for an Amazon First novel award.
I also liked the Vancouver based details. I lived there for 2 years, and I loved all the details the author snuck in.
A woman, Julia, is working on her thesis - in which she claims that some women who experienced childhood sexual abuse did not experience physical trauma. She says she knows because she's one of them. Then she sets off to bike across the country, maybe to find her father. She may find out she's wrong in her thesis.
Book definitely needs a trigger warning, and it was uncomfortable in parts. Which may be the sign of strong writing, or just deliberate provocation. I think Rooney is a new writer, so time will have to answer that one.
idk how to feel about this one… the story never really goes anywhere?? Like the premise was really interesting but I feel like the author didn’t know what they wanted to do with it
Not totally sure how I stumbled upon this little gem but sure glad I did. For such a divisive subject matter, this novel approached it gracefully and eloquently. Julia was a great protagonist- she was not always likable, but you cared about her and what would happen next. Highly recommend. 4.5/5
fascinating book. the plot has a bit too much deus ex machina going on to be wholly convincing, but the characters and the breadth of topics are illustrated vividly and unflinchingly. bravo.
A brave rambling novel that felt a bit surreal to me, since the narrative describes my actual home town in the Annapolis Valley, as well as Vancouver, where I now live.
In terms of the characters, I was tired of the names Lark and Smirks on page 3, and kept waiting (in vain) for some more insight or revelation from the protagonist. Is the reader really supposed to believe that Julia has not been damaged? This reader did not, yet by the end we do not feel any closer to a moment of self-revelation from Julia.
Some quibbles. 1) The plot relied on tremendous coincidence. 2) Smirks takes off and disappears and Julia tries to track him down (relying of course on coincidence). I thought, why not just text him? Later when they meet in Toronto, Julia does text him. !?!? 3) Description of the Stanley Cup riot in Vancouver: "tipping over police cars, smashing windows and designer clothes from..." What does it means to be "smashing designer clothes"?
These quibbles of course are out-maneuvered by Rooney's tremendous audacity in speaking the unspeakable.
A Vancouver grad student alienates family, friends and her thesis advisor researching pedophilia outside of currently accepted models. With the exception of a too convenient ending, this is a remarkable first novel, filled with surprises, unflinching, challenging, filled with fully realized characters rarely found in the work of the most mature writer. You can reasonably hope for great things from Chelsea Rooney, after having the courage and skill to pen a debut novel such as this.
Damn. I was absolutely loving this book for the first 3/4. The last bit, however, sort of ended on a middle-of-the-road, humdrum note. I am very biased for absolutely fawning over her descriptions of Vancouver, and biking across the country. And her handling of such a complicated issue is nothing but praise worthy. But she needed to carry that momentum to the end. But...yeah, it just felt stale. Oh well. I definiitely recommend this book anyways. I had a blast reading it.
This story kept me from my to do list. The characters were very vivid and likeable. Chelsea's writing is captivating and descriptive (but not overly so!) I enjoyed many thought provoking moments. The topic of the book is so unique and brave. I would not have imagined that I would be drawn into the subject matter; I was so wrong! Check it out!!
Holy hell. Overwhelmed by this first novel from local Vancouver writer, Chelsea Rooney. Devoured Pedal in a couple days and good lord if I didn't ugly cry in the last few pages. Her use of simile is unprecedented, on point and at times, utterly heartbreaking. Truly blown away in gobsmacked fashion by the realness, rawness and relatability of this story and its deliciously layered characters.
An intensely brave and facinating story. I could hardly put it down, I felt as if it was revealing parts of my self to me and I didn't want to miss anything, or go another moment one frame short of the whole picture. A true master piece. I am better for having read it.
One of the most original, surprising, verbally adroit books I've read in ages. I was very impressed, not just by the fact that this is a first novel -- great detail and risky content add up to a very exciting debut.