A reflective look back at years of hope and an abiding obsession with the history and literature of the War, Red Sun Falling covers the years between graduating from university in Guelph, leaving one bright winter morning for life in Europe, and returning six years later to a city that has moved on. The days pass now not in university lecture halls and libraries and student houses but in long walks, the Apollo diner, the Bookshelf café and cinema, the Albion hotel bar, outside taxi ranks and strip joints, in basement gyms and bedrooms with single mattresses on the floor; a few city blocks of a working-class town now home, at least for a while, to straggles of fellow ex-students, musicians, waitresses, barge-swabbers and welfare artists trying to get the rest of their lives going. In November the Berlin Wall falls and the author prepares to return to Europe - not to the postwar ruins of Berlin, nor to rainy London, but onward to Czechoslovakia. As the book nears its end, from underneath it all emerges a story of failed love as subtle as a pinprick.