RADIO FREE OLYMPIA

Dunn’s novel chronicles the life of a pirate broadcaster raised in the harsh logging territories of the Pacific Northwest.

The novel begins with a modern version of one of the world’s oldest tales: A baby, abandoned but otherwise healthy, is discovered in a makeshift vessel along the watery shores. Lancelot Aloysius Bauer, better known as Bear, is living in the furthest northwest reaches of Washington state—where he has always lived—working in the logging industry, the only life he has known ever since he was a boy serving as a prep cook for ravenous loggers. One day, while strolling by the shallow waters just off the shore of the Pacific, he discovers a metal drum, and inside it, a lone baby. As simply as that, the care of this child is thrust upon him as if by divine providence. (In a nifty bit of irony in this narrative, which is steeped in the natural environment, the boy is named Petr, after the word on the side of the drum in which he was found: “Petroleum.”) Though Bear is wholly unprepared for fatherhood, his good-hearted attempts to parent do occasionally hit the mark, such as when he purchases Petr a Realtone TR-1088 transistor radio, which fosters the passion that comes to drive Petr’s young life: the medium of radio. As Petr’s fascination grows, he lights out on his own, broadcasting pirate radio waves from the enchanted forests of his native stomping grounds. Meanwhile, Baie, the novel’s other protagonist, is back in the area, fresh from a French monastery and looking to start over after the death of her parents—her story is a surprising but equal counterpart to Petr’s tale.

Dunn’s richly-drawn landscape of the remote stretches of the Pacific Northwest is rife with magic and mysticism, and the sense that larger, more cosmic forces are at play all around us—none more so than the narrator, revealed to be the voice of a sort of mythical raven. (Baie, too, has an animal companion—in her case, a white otter.) Separated as a youth from his flock, the raven is marooned near Mount Olympus and present from the very moment of Petr’s discovery. The raven’s journey inspires some of the author’s best prose: “My skull became a tuner, my beak an antenna, and as I received, I lost my compass. Alive with radio waves, my body skipped off the upper atmosphere. Brilliant as magnesium flame and then black as coal, I tumbled back to earth, vibrating.” Such colorful language abounds in Dunn’s text, and he employs his skills as a poet—he has published several volumes of poetry in addition to novels—to excellent effect to limn the inhabitants of his rich environment, especially when providing brief sketches of childhood (Bear’s, in particular) to contextualize his characters as adults. While the novel may be a touch longer than is strictly necessary, Dunn’s inventive, lush prose and his sense of playfulness between humans and animals (and animals and the Earth) will carry readers through to a satisfying conclusion.

A beautifully written tale of the Pacific Northwest, rich with myth and character.