Published by Enfield & Wizenty, 214 pp, $29.95, hardcover

Richard Van Camp is a magical storyteller in the old-school sense, fully capable of holding an audience enthralled with his voice alone. Hooked into the oral culture of his Dogrib forebears and the computerized twittering of the present, he can bring a campfire feel to any venue. But he’s just as likely to reference his northern hometown’s Caribou Trailer Park as a caribou hunt, and he’s got an especially keen ear for teenspeak and other forms of contemporary slang.

He’s also an uncommonly persuasive orator. I once heard this Vancouver-based writer read “Dogrib Midnight Runners” for a poetry-festival audience, and this poignant yet hilarious tale of friendship and streaking so moved two listeners that they stripped down to their shoes for an oceanside sprint. Granted, that was on a Gulf Island where public nudity is not entirely unknown, but it was November.

In performance, much of Van Camp’s appeal is rooted in his warm presence—and, miraculously, much of that survives the transition to the printed page. “Dogrib Midnight Runners” is included in The Moon of Letting Go, Van Camp’s second short-story collection, and it’s just as inspiring as it was on that chilly fall night. Similarly, the testosterone-soaked teen romance “Love Walked In” perfectly captures the conflicting feelings of lust, friendship, and first love, even without the author’s blushingly intimate delivery.

There are darker themes here too, and they’re especially suited to this more permanent format. I keep coming back to the title story, in which a young mother grudgingly assists “the devil”—an old and reputedly dangerous medicine man—and in turn receives a surprising blessing. In this piece, the phantasmagorical “I Count Myself Among Them”, and the ecstatic “Wolf Medicine: A Ceremony of You…”, Van Camp provides an almost Castanedan window into how the old aboriginal ways coexist with the new ones—sometimes as a source of hope, and sometimes as cause for confusion.

These are important stories, recounted with deep compassion and an unflinching eye. Mahsi cho, Richard, for this gift.