Music, fame and magic weave through Matt Cahill's mesmerizing and eerie new literary thriller Radioland. A series of murders are being whispered about in Toronto — a serial killer is prowling bars and nightclubs, searching for prey. Perhaps it is Kris, a troubled musician whose band has finally made it big when his life collapses around him. Perhaps it is Jill, a sensitive outcast with dangerous magic that calls strangers to her. As Kris and Jill struggle to make their way, each dealing with their own difficult past, a chance encounter puts them into contact. Slowly they begin to share their stories, learning more about each other and eventually about the danger that stalks them both.
Set in Toronto, RADIOLAND takes us on a labyrinthine journey through the minds of two (or three) very different characters. Jill (not her real name) has magical powers and makes money cleansing houses, while distracting herself with drinking and chatting with Dzeko, a phantasm of her old therapist. After Jill pins a sign that says WE WILL NEVER MEET. TEXT ONLY, to a tree, she hears from Kris, a Polaris prize winning musician, who’s suddenly overwhelmed by life after horrific events from his childhood resurface, all the while a third character (or is it?) is luring strangers to their deaths.
Matt Cahill gives us a perfect little mystery wrapped in all the deep mistrust in, or fear of having real human connection.
In Matt Cahill’s novel, Radioland, something evil is stalking the streets of Toronto and people are dying in grisly fashion. Kris, a musician whose band has recorded some albums and attained a plateau of success and acclaim (shortlisted for the Polaris Prize!), has heard the rumours. But Kris has other pressing matters on his mind. A sexual abuse incident from his childhood has reared its ugly head. The man responsible is finally facing charges and Kris is sure he’ll be called upon to tell his story. But the thought of doing so makes him squeamish because years earlier his silence allowed that man to escape unpunished, free to harm other children. The guilt has left Kris feeling vulnerable and unmoored from his life as he struggles to focus on his music and sustain an emotional connection with his girlfriend, Heera. Elsewhere in the city, Jill, who has also heard the rumours of murder, is facing a different kind of struggle. Jill is, depending on your perspective, cursed or gifted with over-developed, ultra-sensitive powers of perception and communication. She has been recruited by Geoff (one of the novel’s many shadowy figures) to work as a “cleanser”—that is, she will enter a house that a client is thinking of buying and suss out depraved or bloody events from the structure’s history. But Jill is also feeling vulnerable: she does not know where her powers come from, or even what they signify, and the death of her sister Angelica has left her with a bad case of survivor’s guilt. Jill is questioning her sanity as well, and not without reason: she drinks too much and carries on lengthy conversations with an imaginary therapist. In their worst moments, Kris and Jill suffer blackouts and memory loss, both later fearing they might be responsible for the murders. With Kris and Jill spiralling—engaging in reckless behaviours, desperate to connect with someone who “gets” them—they join forces in the oddest way: Jill posts an anonymous advert on a power pole and Kris answers it. Their subsequent communications work better than therapy ever could: texting anonymously with another person grants them freedom to confess and disclose without fear or repercussions, and as time goes by, they develop a trusting bond, even though they never actually meet. The story reaches a climax when the two go on separate but simultaneous quests outside the city, looking for guidance and validation from others in their respective communities. Kris seeks out an old musical mentor, and Jill, who by this time has discovered Geoff was not who she thought he was, accepts an invitation from a “sensitive” named Mona (another shadowy figure). In Radioland, his second novel, Matt Cahill has fashioned an unapologetically eccentric work of fiction. In these pages, “Radioland” is a place where connection and communication take place via alternative means: Kris speaks through his music, Jill is able to send and receive messages telepathically. The murders, which take place offstage and remain frustratingly remote from the main action, are perhaps a reminder that all communication carries risk, and that trust should not be granted lightly. Billed as a “literary thriller,” the novel does not actually generate much suspense. For all the feverish movement that happens here, the story proceeds slowly. Cahill weighs down his narrative with a burden of detail and distracting minutae. There are numerous scenes in which we follow Kris or Jill as they venture, step by step by step, through Toronto streets and/or environs, their heads filled with questions that nobody can answer. In the end, Radioland, as exhausting as it is entertaining, asks a great deal of the reader. Visit at your own risk.
Matt Cahill’s second novel, Radioland, blends trauma and magic with the hustle of living in a world of increasing inequality. The book presents us two POV characters, Kris, a struggling musician and Jill, a woman with legitimate and mysterious psychic powers. Cahill explores two kinds of isolation with his characters, both of whom struggle with both their pasts and their futures. Set in Toronto’s west end, Cahill’s prose style captures the tone and rhythm of the city. Radioland is one of those books so grounded in a place and time that it should later be studied just to understand the region in which it was set. Layers of tension coalesce and rise while solitude is explored and real, human connections are forged. There are few novels that you can compare to Radioland and few authors who could pull it off with the skill of Cahill.
You know how you sometimes find a book that seems to sum up your entire life, even although the characters and situations are completely removed from anything you’ve ever experienced? That was Radioland, for me. I found myself relating to both protagonists and living inside their bodies and minds. I loved the compellingly visceral descriptions and the fabulously rich prose. A triumph in psychological-disaster storytelling, Radioland blasts across the airwaves with an enviable power and originality.
Thank you Good Reads Giveaways for this book. I did not like it. I read a good 100 pages and just could not finish it. The writing and imagery is excellent, but I was so bored with the characters and the abstract plot. I am sure that other people will enjoy this book.