For much of Asthmatica, Jon Paul Fiorentino is showing off so flamboyantly it’s a wonder that he doesn’t hyperventilate. It is quite a spectacle to behold at first, and the results are often very funny. But as the collection moves on it becomes clear that at the core of all this showboating is a distinct emotional detachment that begins to make the prose feel a little mechanical. It is as if the work has spit forth from a powerful and erratic machine, one with an extensive database of pop culture references and statistics of long-defunct NHL teams.

Fiorentino is the managing editor of Montreal’s Matrix magazine, and this is his first collection of short fiction, following three books of poetry. The subject matter here covers much of the same ground as his verse, focusing on growing up in the desolate Winnipeg suburb of Transcona. The voice in these stories comically deconstructs the despair of this life. “Electrolux” explores the very special kind of love that can exist between a boy and a vacuum cleaner; “Milkman” has one boy taunting another over the question of his paternity; and “Hail, Satan” follows the divergent fortunes of two brothers, one of whom chooses heavy metal over the safety of home. In between the stories we have entertaining pomo fireworks, including textual commentary on “Electrolux” and “Previously Enjoyed Crosswords,” a piece that mocks CanLit icons.

The pace of all this is very quick – a little too quick. Just as the reader starts to find traction with these characters and circumstances, Fiorentino moves on to the next fancy of his imagination. It is tempting to add ADHD to the list of disorders from which these characters suffer (including asthma, diabetes, epilepsy, and clinical depression), but none of this is meant to be taken seriously.

In the end this collection is refreshingly light-hearted. It’s easy to imagine a certain type of reader finding this book revolutionary: that reader is a 16-year-old boy, a bit of an outsider, intelligent but not yet well read. Asthmatica will send him off to the library to find out who Jacques Lacan and Michel Foucault are, and in this way the book is a very real blessing.