Mark Medley is the National Post‘s Books Editor and co-edits the country’s best book blog, The Afterword, sits on PEN Canada’s Board of Directors, and serves on the Advisory Committee of The Humber School for Writers. His work has appeared in publications across North America, like The Globe and Mail, The Walrus, and The Mississippi Review.
When an advance copy of Galore came across my desk in the summer of 2009, I’m ashamed to admit I had never read a word written by Michael Crummey. His previous two novels — 2001’s River Thieves and 2005’s The Wreckage — were published while I was in university, and therefore had plenty of other books to read. I can’t exactly recall what made me open up the book — it certainly wasn’t the cover, because if you’ve ever received an ARC from Random House you’ll know how unappealing they are – but from the from Crummey’s haunting opening sentences, of Judah on the beach, I was hooked. Of all the books I’ve read, it’s the one that most reminds me of One Hundred Years of Solitude, which, of course, once I sat down with Crummey a few days later, I learned was entirely on purpose — Galore is, in part, an homage to García Márquez and his masterwork. This is a sweeping family saga, with bloodlines and family trees as elaborate as any you’ll find on Ancestry.com, tied to the fates of two rival families: the Sellers of Paradise Deep and the Devines of the Gut. It is one of the best Canadian novels of the past decade, perhaps ever. I have given countless copies of this book for birthdays and Christmas since first reading it; it has become my default gift. Last week, I gave it to a friend for her 30th birthday. Just a few second ago I tweeted “Galore by Michael Crummey” when a colleague asked me what book he should read next. Galore has made me predictable, and I’m thankful for it.
Click here to read more about Galore at Random House’s website.


















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I’m with Mark. Galore was the most ambitious and deftly handled Canadian novel I read last year. Amazing how Crummey can tell lore that you somehow know already in a way that makes each suprisingly fresh. The book is a purgatorial loop of time, cut away from our universe, yet somehow parallel and real.