Not unlike his first novel, Galore, the characters in Crummey’s Sweetland span generations; in this way, the reader recognizes the strong familial and cultural ties entrenched in his rural Newfoundland settings. However, it’s not the number of Crummey’s characters that’s significant; it’s their extraordinary authenticity that makes them so memorable. Each character is quirky by design; Queenie the chain smoker, Jesse, Sweetland’s autistic nephew who just happens to hold conversations with Moses’ dead brother, and Duke, the barber shop proprietor who has never cut a single strand of hair, are all prime examples. In addition to their peculiar natures, Crummey enriches his characterizations through their authentic dialect. I’d be remiss here if I neglected to mention how Crummey’s depictions of the Newfoundland landscape, the Atlantic sea, and the mainland serve as characters in their own right. They are ‘characters’ that are both antagonistic and agreeable – a notion that illustrates further, Crummey’s ability to mediate the middle ground of