Book critics don’t start writing about others’ books out of a compulsive need to find fault or a twisted attempt to build themselves up by tearing others down. Or at least that’s not why I got in the book-reviewing game. A love of literature and a belief that it matters motivates my criticism, whether the reviews are laudatory or condemnatory. I admit to having penned a few somewhat negative assessments. Nonetheless, I also admit that it’s a real pleasure to enjoy without reservation a book assigned for review. I like to like what I read.
This happened with Kevin Canty’s Everything, which I reviewed for The Oregonian (“Glimpses from the front line of midlife,” Sunday, July 11, 2010, p. O12). Here are a few excerpts:
As his title Everything boldly announces, novelist Kevin Canty’s characters confront life’s big issues: shattered love, suffering, disappointment, death – and real estate. …
Canty shapes sharp, spare, highly quotable prose. … [H]e conveys his characters feelings of incompleteness in short, brightly polished sentences (or shards of them). …
While Canty’s themes might suggest gloominess, he animates a smiling existentialism, and Everything can be quite funny. … Even amid “epic pointlessness” a kind of grace operates. Loss may be a certainty, but this provides no “excuse not to live” – or not to laugh.
Simply put, Everything does everything a novel ought to do.









