An Inverted Sort of Prayer

Chris F. Needham
Now or Never Publishing Co. (2006)
ISBN 0973955805
Reviewed by William Phenn for Reader Views (5/06)

Chris Needham is a Canadian writer that has taken his love of writing and hockey and combined the two in a fast paced adventure. His varied experiences in life (Bouncer, Bartender, Forklift Driver, Magazine Editor, etc.) have added much to this novel.

“An Inverted Sort of Prayer” is Chris F. Needham’s first book and as such, is a bit rough around the edges. Characters in a novel do not necessarily have to be associated with a particular location. It doesn’t matter if it is a bar or a church, when the focus of a book has no other redeeming quality except to show how much the main character and his friends can drink, that is not a book worth reading. “An Inverted Sort of Prayer” is a reminder to all who read it that Booze is not an answer. Bill Purdy goes through the hell of his addiction without the slightest remorse. He is trying to straighten his life out but does not distance himself from his addicted friends. “Wet faces and wet places”, would have been a better title for this story of the power and privilege of money. Mr. Needham shows me very vividly the truth of “Money is power”.

“An Inverted Sort of Prayer” is a very graphic portrayal of an ex hockey star (Billy Purdy) that let the good life get the best of him. It takes our character down a path of drunken stupors, crazy friends, sexy women, and globe trotting to international parties. All in the guise of a second try at life, this time the intention is to be a better person. But how can this happen when all Billy does is party and drink?

The partying could make for an interesting read if the characters did more than just drink and argue. But that seems to be their lot in life so I give “An Inverted Sort of Prayer” a B. I think you have to enjoy hockey (which I do) and understand the job of an Enforcer to truly understand what Billy is going through.

Reviewed by Deb Shunamon for Reader Views (4/06)

This is a grown-up, sophisticated novel and I was (and still am) intrigued by the back cover write-up. However, after spending many hours reading the book’s tiny font I have only reached page 182 and I am putting it down for awhile. I know I’ll be missing out on some brilliant language, for Needham can write well, but a reader can only endure so much verbiage.

Billy Purdy is nearing the end of his hockey career as an enforcer and becomes friends with a politician’s son who is plagiarizing a book written by Billy’s father. However, it takes a long time to learn anything pertinent to this story line as the amount of extraneous information is incredible. (For example, there’s a whole half-page devoted to the step-by-step actions of a character retying his bootlace!) But, when the author gets around to it, the story is interesting and the language outstanding, some of my favorites being: “…wiping the dried puke shrapnel from my shoes…” and “How old a story was that when the wretchedly diseased Catholic girl fell hard for the former prime minister’s son before falling even harder for the floor.”.

I actually wanted to stop reading this book quite early on, initially because of the waste of time I consider the first few chapters to be. If I’d wanted to know in minute detail the décor of bars, what drinks they make, and listen to the endless wisdom of drunks (not to mention learning the exact drink order of each character and how much money they spend), I’d go to a bar myself. I realized later, however, that I was just extremely disappointed that yet another Canadian novelist – one that can definitely write – had chosen to rely on old clichés. Obsessed with details as he is, the author has included:  a Native (half) main  character whose mother had been taken advantage-of by a white man (and of course fetal alcohol syndrome needed to be mentioned); the obligatory pokes and rants about the Canadian literary establishment; our close Canadian bond with nature and our surroundings (excessive details about urban drinking establishments, Vancouver and its natural beauty, and the scenery on the trip to Whistler); quick mention of characters from Vancouver’s well-known gay and oriental communities; the sexual prowess of men and the “slutty” women they encounter (“mom” being the only good woman so far); Hollywood North (although the Stallone story is a very old one) and, oh yes, Canadians’ beloved hockey.

While I realize the author isn’t simply writing a hockey story, the chapters on this subject, as well as those having nothing to do with inebriation, were the most enjoyable of all as they were interesting, informative, important to the story, well written for the most part, and very refreshing after all the drunken philosophizing and debauchery that goes on most of the time.  However, I have had a very frustrating time trying to figure out why such an astute and capable writer has chosen to include everything else above instead of creating his own ingenious, original context - because he certainly seems capable of it.

I am at Chapter 18 (halfway through the book) and as I’ve said I am taking a break. It has taken hours to read about every bar in downtown Vancouver and Whistler, that Billy Purdy’s hockey career is over, and that his father’s plagiarized book, and perhaps his own writing, may become the focus in the final 22 chapters. I want to know more about the “quintessential Canadian dream” as I haven’t yet figured out what the author is saying about it, and I will finish the book eventually. But I regret that it’s taking so long to do so. Reading an interesting novel shouldn’t be such hard work. In the future, I hope this author will be able to trust his ability to be creative, as he has proven to me that he has the insight to be able to write inventively, and the writing ability to carry it off. If he can work without the clichés, control his preoccupation with detail; and share less of his experiences as a bartender, Needham could be a truly great writer.

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