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“Simple Creatures” affords McGill countless opportunities to render the anatomy of melancholy with a level of fidelity not normally seen within the confines of the short story; the result of these strivings is a unique and galvanic brand of fiction that does not shy away from uncovering the crumbling machinery at the heart of most strained relationships.

McGill’s other books include the novels “The Mysteries,” “Once We Had a Country,” and and the non-fiction books and “War Is Here: The Vietnam War and Canadian Literature.” He is the acting chair of the University of Toronto’s Department of English, and teaches creative writing and Canadian literature.

What did you last read and what made you read it?

“Barchester Towers” by Anthony Trollope, because enough people kept recommending Trollope that I finally took the plunge. The plot, involving power plays in the 19th-century Church of England, is great fun, and there’s a terrifically sophisticated wit. Take this sentence: “She was a fine young woman, and had she been a man, would have been a very fine young man.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen the word “very” do so much work.

What book would your readers be shocked to find in your collection?

I don’t own it and have never read it, so I’d be shocked to find it there, too.

When was the last time you devoured a book in one, or very few, sittings?

I tore through Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone’s novel “This Is How You Lose the Time War.” It’s about the relationship between two agents for duelling sides in a time-travelling war that spans centuries. The book combines a high-concept plot, a love story and lush prose, while meditating provocatively on why we’re drawn to genres such as fantasy and science fiction.

Who’s the one author or what’s the one book you’ll never understand, despite the praise?

I find, when reading older books that were huge bestsellers in their day, that it can take a bit of work to see how audiences held their noses regarding weaknesses in the writing. For instance, George du Maurier’s novel “Trilby” is thrilling once we get to the evil Svengali turning the tone-deaf Trilby into a singing sensation through hypnosis, but the first half of the book is a slog, and you wonder how Victorian readers made it through.

What’s the one book that has not garnered the success that it deserves?

If only there was just one! But let me give a shoutout to I was blown away by its wisdom, especially with respect to infatuation and relationships between young artists. “Mudflowers” was an award finalist, but I’d have been happy for it to win all the flowers.

What book would you give anything to read again for the first time?

Thomas King’s novel which has been a staple of my teaching at the University of Toronto. Its trenchant criticism of colonialism still rivets me, and its many comic moments still crack me up, but I envy my students who get to experience it without knowing in advance what a raucous ride they’re in for.

When you were 10 years old, what was your favourite book?

Two novels vied for “favourite” status. One was Louise Fitzhugh’s “Harriet the Spy.” At 10, I was already writing stories, and the book’s depiction of the tween-as-writer bewitched me, not least because Fitzhugh didn’t straightforwardly valorize writing as an activity. The other contender was Douglas Adams’s “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” At 10, I was just old enough to get the jokes, which made me feel deliciously proud of myself.

What fictional character would you like to be friends with?

Hmm! I’ve never considered fictional characters to be potential friends. I suppose it’s because my relationship to them is so one-sided: as a reader, I get such intimate views of their thoughts and private lives. If we met in person, knowing about them what I do, I’d probably feel ashamed of myself and flee the scene.

Do you have a comfort read that you revisit?

I have a policy of not rereading books. In fact, I also have a policy of not reading two books by the same author, because I want to read work by as many writers as possible and keep making discoveries. Admittedly, I’ve violated these two policies promiscuously, but they’ve kept me from latching onto comfort reads.

What was the last book that made you laugh or cry?

Right now, I’m early on in Anna Burns’s “Milkman” — it won the Booker Prize in 2018, so I’m late to the party. I’m anticipating unhappy turns, as the story’s set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, but so far, the superb humour has earned from me quite a few literal LOLs.

What is the one book you wish you had written?

“Green Fire.” It’s an extraordinary novel of imagination and adventure — one that I started writing when I was 11, using my family’s Atari 1040ST home computer. Thirty thousand words in, trying to save the file to a floppy disk, I inadvertently erased the whole thing. After that, I could never bring myself to start over.

What three authors living or dead would you like to have a coffee with?

William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe and Francis Bacon, just to settle a bet.

What does your definition of personal literary success look like?

Time to write, a sense of fulfilment in the writing and readers finding the writing meaningful in one way or another.