Peter Oliva’s second novel, The City of Yes, is not so much one story as it is several individual tales, each threading seamlessly through the others in a meditation on storytelling itself. Set mainly in Japan, the novel offers glimpses into the lives of several characters: the unnamed Canadian narrator who is teaching English in Japan, Enzo, a fellow teacher who introduces the narrator to the local culture, Hiroko, a student who has an affair with the narrator, and Ranald Macdonald, a nearly forgotten figure from 19th-century Canadian history. The novel drifts in and out of their lives with a dreamlike lucidity, moving from one person to the next, from Canada to Japan, from the present to the past and back again, from reality to narrated story, and from story to myth.

The lives of the characters are just the surface level of a deeply layered novel. While Oliva tells their stories, the characters in turn tell the stories of others: Enzo passes on Japanese legends and tales of his family, the narrator reflects on his past in Canada and tries to translate his experiences into the local culture, and Macdonald’s trip to Japan becomes a chronicle of history. Even the everyday moments of life are transformed into story in The City of Yes. The mating rituals of praying mantises reflect the narrator’s own relationship with Hiroko, the study of martial arts becomes a narrative of social etiquette, North America becomes a fantasy landscape to the Japanese, and history itself becomes simply another tale.

The City of Yes,/I> is a Calvino-like intersection of art and reality, a portrait of life in which it is not the picture that is most important but the brush strokes. Meaning becomes secondary, something to be chased after and never caught. This may not interest readers who prefer more straightforward narratives, but it will certainly please those who favour the telling of the story over any sort of message.

Oliva has proven himself to be one of Canada’s finest literary authors with The City of Yes. While the novel’s meditative tone and diffuse focus may keep it from attaining wide mainstream appeal, it will certainly find a home on the bookshelves of those who care about the art of the story.