If this review were a sports headline it would read "COADY IN THE TIME OF CROSBY." At least that's what I imagine some media factions coming up with between the six of them over a three thousand dollar power lunch at The Keg Mansion as we learn that a book about a hockey thug's lexical revenge has just been shortlisted for the Giller Prize.

Coady, who calls Edmonton home now made a huge entry into fiction in 1998 when her book Strange Heaven was nominated for a Governor General's Award. She also won the Air Canada Award for most promising writer under 30. Her last major literary undertaking was The Anansi Reader which she edited in 2008 for the press's 40th anniversary.

The politics of space and place are never neutral. Though many would like us to believe otherwise, the authors who have contributed to The Art of Trespassing know that geographies are always contested. They take the ancient art of trespassing to new levels by questioning and transgressing not only personal boundaries, but society's as well.

Henry Chow is an unlikeable character. He is the embodiment of the clichéd high-school student: A class clown with a crush on Charlene, a "close-lip smiler, always trying to conceal her lavender braces," who Henry doesn't even think is "hot" because she's flat chested. He's that guy -- the one who concludes a love interest is a "bitch" when he realizes his affection is unrequited.

While reading a thriller, I anticipate -- and usually get -- a twisty, testosterone-ridden plot. If I'm lucky, there's a strong female character; really lucky, a good sex scene. What I don't expect: a theory of socio-political hegemony centered around the idea of dissent. But Rana Bose's The Fourth Canvas is a novel of ideas as much as a thriller, with enough red herrings to make Agatha Christie proud, and enough progressive ideas to satisfy the most ardent activist.