A LONG TIME ago I wrote my first novel, which was published in Estonian as “Montreali deemonid,” and rendered as Montreal Demons in English, which many people noted was the name of a local hockey team. So the title was a bit of a failure. I haven’t thought about this book for a good while, but recently, the worldly inspiration for one of its characters got in touch with me. I thought about sending it out again, after some read through edits and a retitle, and came across this line from the text.
“Montreal unfolds like a black maze, department store window jollies pass me by, hamburgers and hats framed by buildings with rows of ornate columns, curvy balconies, and pointy roofs that poke up into the moon-lightened sky like witches’ bonnets.’
It was always difficult for me to get the right perspective on this book. But I checked and there is no other novel called Black Maze. Two other titles come to mind, “Black Math,” a song by The White Stripes, and Henry Miller’s “Black Spring.” So it works. I hereby lay claim to it.