Desire, adultery, divorce, guilt, therapy – “A Tale of Two Cities,” the riskily titled novella that makes up the bulk of George Fetherling’s new book, covers ground made most familiar by Woody Allen films. A self-absorbed hypochondriac strains to juggle his difficult new girlfriend, his enraged ex-wife, his ailing parents, and his lagging literary agency. As the protagonist moves from Toronto to Vancouver, the reader gets revealing glimpses of each city’s culture, from both the scenic perspective of an outsider and the jaded view of a man ensconced among the literati.

The author and editor of more than 50 books – and yet hardly a household name – Fetherling is uniquely qualified to present this dual perspective, and he does so in faultless prose and a witty, appealing voice. The intelligence and emotional honesty of the unnamed narrator quickly establish him as a man worth following. Unfortunately, however, his wanderings often lead nowhere in particular, as the central romantic plotline rarely leaves the narrator’s head. Scenes of dialogue are avoided, and those we do get are so completely swamped in the narrator’s perspective that Cynthia and Faye (his girlfriend and ex-wife) feel more like projections of his aching libido than people in their own right.

On the other hand, the novella does take alienation as a central theme, so perhaps the narrator’s insularity is appropriate. When Cynthia dumps him without explanation, he plunges into the lurid world of cybersex newsgroups, hoping that by further exploring her fetishes, he will discover what went wrong between them. It’s an odd strategy (and never wholly believable), but Fetherling’s thoughtful writing shines in this section, illuminating the pathos of his narrator’s need to distance himself by intellectualizing his relations with the world.

Appropriately, the four stories that follow the novella all deal with communication barriers – of language, ethnicity, age, gender – with varying degrees of success. Again, the prose is strong and the voice intelligent, but the book as a whole suffers by relying too heavily on these assets, causing a structural waywardness that leaves these tales feeling somehow incomplete.