Review of Pitfall by Terry Kirk

Review of Pitfall (At Bay Press), 325 pages, by Terry Kirk

A fast-paced, intelligent, and emotionally rich debut—gritty historical fiction with heart.

Canadian author Terry Kirk’s novel, Pitfall, resonates with the same bell-ringing audacity and financial anxiety as the economy of October 1929. I know because I took a crash course: I not only read her novel but also heard the author speak during the Winnipeg Plume launch at the delightfully bookish Whodunit Bookshop.

Pitfall is a well-rounded, atmospheric look at commodities trading and the many occasions when ambition and morality collide. As Kirk observed, “Wheat was the Bitcoin of the 1920s,” and her close examination of the period drives that metaphor home. Frank Cork, a charismatic and reckless trader, sees his fortunes—and the world’s—fail with the collapse of 1929. Penniless, he flees Chicago’s gang-ridden streets and seeks refuge on the Prairies—“the largest wheatfield in the world.”

“The world’s gotta eat!”

Chapters alternate between the perspectives of Frank, who slides from high-stakes wheat futures to the underworld of bootleg rye whiskey, and his young intern Lewis, left to salvage what he can in Chicago. This dual structure heightens the story’s tension between speculation and sustenance, insatiable capitalist hunger and the land where wheat is grown.

Kirk’s prose is brisk and lucid, often inlaid with sardonic wit reminiscent of John Irving. A driving narrative propels the story, anchored with historically precise facts. Her female characters are shrewd and confident—most notably Frank’s wife, Katrina, whose dominant presence in meetings with powerful men lends a contemporary feel. In vivid contrast are the capable women on the farm, who manage children, livestock, gardening, and the wood pile—and while there might have been performances of Verdi or Tchaikovsky on the wind-up Victrola, there was no DoorDash—just the physicality and peril of rural life on the Prairies.

The era’s moral decay is echoed through intertextual nods to The Great Gatsby, The Sun Also Rises, and Bonfire of the Vanities—touchstones in the novel’s exploration of hubris and risk. Twain’s familiar bon mot, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes,” also comes to mind as we witness the parallels between the 1920s’ obsessive drive toward wealth and today’s “peak capitalism” moment.

What elevates Pitfall is its moral undercurrent: the uneasy partnership between those who profit from wheat and those who grow it, and the moxy required by all to survive. In the end, Frank’s exile becomes a dangerous passage to humility and renewal. —Mitchell Toews

Terry Kirk is a lawyer and writer living in downtown Toronto.