On the world stage, Canadian fiction has a reputation for deep themes and dour moods. Austere Atwoods, multi-layered Mistrys, and opaque Ondatjes get all the press, obscuring the marked talent for comedy Canadians possess.

In 2004, some persuasive reminders of our satirical nature have emerged. Miriam Toews provides the gentle humour of a complicated kindness. Paul Quarrington corners the oddball market with Galveston. Trevor Cole delivers the flat-out funniest novel of the year with Norman Bray.

Edward Riche continues this resurgence, albeit in a darker vein. His second novel, The Nine Planets, is a barrage of clever wit and caustic observation, a blackly funny and oftentimes very nasty look at private schools, the “colonial inferiority complex" of Newfoundland, and late-1990s smugness.

Marty Devereaux is a “fully formed" man, a person who “knew exactly who he was, [and] detested people who “discovered" things about themselves late in life." Co-creator of The Red Pines, a private school in St. John’s, Marty enjoys a life of prestige and privilege, and is preparing to take his school beyond provincial borders and into the global market.

However, his partner Hank is deterring investors with a crusade to save the Newfoundland wilderness from development. The science department is painting an increasingly complicated representation of the solar system on the hallway walls. His niece Cathy rebels against everything and everyone.

Making matters worse, one student, a particularly loathsome creature whom teachers have to remind themselves not to strike, has a powerful father determined that he graduate despite obviously failing grades.

As evinced by both his previous novel Rare Birds (recently adapted to film, starring William Hurt) and his work on the CBC television program Made in Canada, Riche knows his way around dark comedy.

Educators will find much to crow about in Riche’s astute observations of private schools, especially in his pointed attacks on parents who use school events to “measure their childrens’ beauty and talent against one another," and their disappointment if they “didn’t get the dog and pony show they wanted."

Riche also crafts bitter zingers at the Canadian stereotyping of Newfoundlanders. “They enjoyed the yokels’ singing and dancing, their antic faux-Irish chimping . . . the island people were at heart still savages, born devils on whose nature nurture never struck – a race born of contempt."

But unlike the more thematically complete Rare Birds, Riche chooses too many targets for his drollness. Cohesiveness is lost as he takes aim at everything in sight, taking a scattershot approach that leaves the story foundering with wonderful set pieces, yet never completely crystallizing into a whole.

Near the end, heavy-handedness sets in, as Riche pounds his themes home. Marty’s unravelling life contrasts with The Red Pines all too obviously. Seemingly important characters are given short shrift. The ultimate point is lost amidst too many comic distractions, sub-plots, and juxtapositions.

Overreaching aside, The Nine Planets is funny, explosively hilarious in parts, which makes it worthwhile reading whatever its flaws may be. Riche has genuine comedic timing, and a canny grasp of linguistics worthy of Martin Amis. If he can learn to control plot as well as language, his next novel could be a classic. ( )