It’s the mid-2010s and Alexander Otkazov has fled Montreal and a failed career as a musician for a new life in Toronto, where he hopes to find work as a journalist and perhaps a less impoverished lifestyle. A roommate helps him get a job clearing tables at a restaurant, a modest turn of events to be sure but one that proves pivotal because this is where Alexander meets Sev, a gifted opera singer, who introduces him to a coterie of friends connected to the city’s music scene, a group that show more includes musicians and their big-money benefactors, represented by high-flying businessmen and a shady property developer named Sean Porter. It’s not long before Alexander lands a position writing for a music journal and finds himself on the fringes of this privileged inner circle. Musically speaking, Alexander’s interests tend toward the disruptive and subversive avant garde. Specifically, he’s drawn to an enigmatic group, known in the underground press as Fera Civitatem, which has gained notoriety for their daring and provocative performances in abandoned buildings and disused concert halls, performances that defy convention and skirt the edges of acceptability. His interest in this group leads him to Theresa, a performer and uninhibited risk-taker, whose connections with Fera Civitatem open doors and enable Alexander to prove his journalistic chops. Pursuing his avant-garde interests, Alexander’s next writing assignment takes him east, to the murky depths of Halifax Harbour, where a controversial project is underway to build a subterranean organ, or hydroörganon. Once back in Toronto, Alexander continues digging into Fera Civitatem and its wealthy sponsors, leading him to the discovery of disturbing connections between Toronto’s avant-garde music scene and developers like Sean Porter. In the City of Pigs is structured as a bildungsroman. Alexander walks into an esoteric world with his eyes wide open but dazzled somewhat by naivety and high-mindedness. When he realizes what’s going on behind the closed doors of those gleaming office towers, he wants to tear the whole thing down. The novel is loosely structured and devotes plenty of space to discussions (sometimes heated) of musical performance and theory. In particular, the hydroörganon receives comprehensive treatment, probably beyond what the reader really needs to know (for anyone wondering, the hydroörganon—though persuasively rendered complete with theory and history—is not actually a thing). Despite these instances of self-indulgence, the book remains entertaining, and there’s no denying that in Alexander Otkazov André Forget has created an engaging protagonist possessing a sophisticated intelligence who speaks of himself and others in candid and sobering terms. show less

Jan 15, 2024