Award-winning Toronto film and video artist Mike Hoolboom opens his first novel with a tube-tanned doctor delivering bad news. 'There was a sadness in this doctor's face that remained a stranger to him, and it kept him young.' Flashes of this kind of incisiveness recur throughout the book. Two paragraphs later Auden, our narrator, describes the weird numbness that can settle in when mortality hits us in the chops. 'I felt the muscles in my face as a large pack of steel balls that needed to be coaxed and herded to form basic human responses.' Who of us has not been there?